Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2012 20:21:05 +0000
From: lokiaga@austin.rr.com
Subject: Rue Dauphine 18

Rue Dauphine 18
Lance Kyle

The morning after the first fugitives arrived at the house in Rue Dauphine,
King came to Scott, pallor beneath his dark chocolate skin, to announce the
arrival of police at the door.  Scott made sure his ring was in his pocket
and went to see them, King standing just out of sight with a pistol in his
waistband.  It turns out that they were there with a couple of Parish
officials to search the late LeRoc's house for any kind of will or
testament.  No relatives had claimed the body, and Scott could affirm that
nobody had come to ask him about the matter.  The officials wanted the key
to the house, which they knew Scott kept.  He handed it over and offered
his services to search, but they thanked him and declined, walking across
the street and entering the house.  Scott did NOT tell them that he had
made a copy.  He did however worry about what else they might find; he
hoped that any notes or paraphernalia relating to magic or to the Frères
would simply be ignored.

He was standing in the doorway regarding the house across the way when a
note was delivered from Lawyer Toogood.  The attorney said he had made no
progress in discovering any heirs from whom Scott could buy the house.
Were LeRoc to have died intestate, Toogood thought that might actually
facilitate Scott's plans, for Toogood knew a Parish official or two he
could speak to who might effect a quick sale.  Scott was a little troubled
by his possession of LeRoc's ring, which was not legally his.  King had
been hesitant to command Scott's uncle's ring since it was not his, and
Scott had learned enough to know that one risked dangers in taking an
object like that when one had no good right to it.  That made him wonder at
LeRoc's quest to find more rings, but perhaps LeRoc had intended some means
of acquiring them that would satisfy legal and magical requirements.  At
any rate, he considered himself merely custodian of the ring, and would not
put it on, until he could say he had formally acquired the house and its
contents.

While the police were searching for the will at LeRoc's, the people in the
house made sure the fugitives stayed in hiding. They slept late anyway, and
food and drink were brought to them.  Once the coast was clear, they came
downstairs.  Cleopatra and King gave them a brief tour of the house, during
which the first group was made aware of how different this house was.  "And
this is my room," Cleopatra or King would say, ushering the group into a
well appointed bedroom.  The mother of the family, knowing that slave women
were often kept for the enjoyment of the master of the house, cautiously
asked Cleopatra, "Do you mean, this is where you are asked to...uh, to
lie...sometimes?"  Cleopatra looked at her uncomprehendingly.  "No, this is
my bedroom," she replied, "although in this house we all sleep with anyone
we want to sleep with, so we all move around."  The family was not sure
they understood THAT, but they let it go.  When they came upon Scott in his
study the mother and father knelt as if to kiss his hand in gratitude for
sanctuary, but he was having none of it.  He took their hands and raised
them to their feet and then shook the hand as an equal.  This kind of scene
was often repeated.  Some fugitives "got it" and some merely left with a
sense of gratitude, but also a sense that they had been in a strange house.
And as we saw in the last chapter, some participated in the free couplings
that were available to them.

The family spent much time during their short stay sitting in the
courtyard, taking the sun and the air, having evidently been hidden in dark
places.  The children enjoyed playing there, although they were often
cautioned to keep the noise down.  Scott was sometimes around and sometimes
not, for he devoted regular time to study in the secret cellar library.

A day after the police had searched the house for a will, Lawyer Toogood
sent word that none had been found, and that he was pushing matters along
for LeRoc to be declared intestate and to sell his house and its contents.
He felt the chances were good for a successful sale.  Toogood also warned
that it might take a while for the affair to be concluded.

Scott discussed the matter with King, explaining his desire to learn who
the other Frères were and to acquire any magical knowledge LeRoc may have
possessed.  King reminded Scott that he had been in the house only some
months.  He was not allowed access to LeRoc's papers or possessions,
although his former master had told him about the ring, in a spirit of
lording something over him. He knew of no secret rooms or passages, and did
not think the house had a cellar—of course, so very few houses did in
New Orleans.  But King agreed that finding that information would be
useful.  He offered to go with Scott to the house to search, but Scott
declined, thinking the fewer burglars the better.  Also, although King was
making great progress in learning to read, Scott did not think he could be
of much assistance in looking for documents.

So Scott took paper and pencil, his ring, a pistol concealed in his
clothing, and the duplicate key to LeRoc's and slipped across the street
when nobody was looking and into the house.  He cast some spells of
blessing and protection, although he had no sense that the house itself was
evil.  He began a systematic search.  In the library he did locate some
books on magic, and carefully made a list of the contents.  But nothing on
the Frères.  He found nothing to indicate a cellar.  The house was quite
large, larger than his, possessing no courtyard but having the kitchen
building simply standing against its own alley apart from the house, with
an iron fence connecting the kitchen to the two neighboring houses.  Many
of the rooms were bedrooms, dusty with disuse.  He found upstairs the room
in which King had been chained, and with much distaste forced himself to
search it, but found nothing.  Some hours passed and he was standing in the
ground floor entryway wondering where to search next when he heard an
unmistakable knocking on the back door.

His first instinct was to hide, or flee from the front, but he decided to
wait.  There was knocking again, and then he wondered: did he also hear his
name being called?  Now he did feel fearful but he knew he had to
investigate.  He arrived at the back door, which looked out onto the
kitchen a few yards away, as there was another knock.  He peeped out of a
curtain at one side.  It was Mama Désirée.

Scott opened the door and bade her enter.  Instead she cast an ironic look
at him.  "No success in your search, sir?" she asked.  Scott shook his head
no.  "Perhaps you need an assistant," she said, and turning she clapped her
hands three times.  A figure shuffled through the back gate.  It was LeRoc.

Scott immediately drew his pistol and was about to take aim when Mama
Désirée held up an imperial hand and shouted "Hold!  Do not harm my
servant.  He still has uses for me."  Scott's heart was racing as he
lowered the pistol, looked hard at Mama Désirée, looked hard at the
advancing LeRoc, and immediately put it all together: LeRoc had been turned
into a zombie.  Mama Désirée saw the realization and smiled.  She turned to
the ashen white, disheveled, shuffling figure that was drawing nearer and
uttering an unfamiliar word she then said, "LeRoc! Find your papers
concerning the Frères!"  Scott leaped back as the zombie shuffled up to and
through the back door, the faint odor of embalming fluid trailing him.
Scott shivered in every fiber of his being.  LeRoc went straight to his
library, to a painting on the wall, lifted it down, and began to turn the
combination of a safe hidden there in the wall.

"Quick! The combination!" cried Mama Désirée.  Scott, writhing in fear and
disgust, nevertheless got close enough to the undead to see over his
shoulder and observe the combination used on the safe.  He quickly wrote it
down.  The safe door swung open and LeRoc stepped back.  There was a single
sheaf of papers in the safe, although a fair quantity of jewels and gold.
Reaching past the zombie who stood to one side, Scott pulled out the
papers, and they certainly appeared to be what he had sought.  Then he
stepped back, putting a welcome distance between himself and the remains of
LeRoc. Mama Désirée nodded in satisfaction and then said "Come!"  With no
further word she exited the back door, the zombie shuffling after her, and
down the alley.

Scott closed the door, making sure it was locked.  His skin was still
crawling as he returned to the library and bent to his work copying as much
as he could.  Some hours rolled by during which he worked intently, not
really processing the information but copying as quickly as he could.
Then, the task completed, he placed the original papers back in the safe,
locked it after checking that he had the combination, replaced the
painting, and gathering up his belongings he looked out through a front
curtain until the coast was clear, then slipped out of the house, locked
the door, and crossed the street to his own house.

The door was opened before he could get there, King, Cleopatra, and James
being on watch, full of anxiety at his long absence.  In a low voice he
told them of everything that had happened.  They gasped and shuddered at
the news of LeRoc, but King reminded them that the zombie was now under the
control of Mama Désirée and that, as long as they were on her good side,
they had little to fear.  His three friends made Scott sit in the library
and take some brandy to recover his nerves.  When he felt better he pulled
out his notes copied from LeRoc's papers, and announced his intention to
study them.  They left him to it until dinner time.  Full comprehension of
the papers would take time, but he discovered two things that interested
him.  First, the secrets of the fraternity had evidently come from France
some time in the early eighteen century.  Second, the list of Frères, if
still accurate, showed only about thirty of them, and almost exclusively
residing in plantations.  Only four were actually in New Orleans, in large
houses that might have had large staffs of slaves.  It made sense; the
magic of the Frères was designed to counter voodoo, which would have been
necessary where there were large holdings of slaves.

The fugitive family joined them, all spread out around the kitchen
table. They showed surprise at Scott's presence, taken for granted by
everyone else.  They pretended not to notice when Delilah invited King to
sleep with her that night.  They exchanged glances and the occasional looks
among themselves, looks of astonishment at the strange place to which they
had come.  When invited to join the learning session in the right wing
attic after dinner they agreed, although they were beginning from a base of
no literacy at all, so Scott asked King, who was a step ahead of the
others, to give them some basic instruction while he continued with the
lessons for the others.  Afterwards, the fugitives thanked everyone with
great sincerity, and then hurried off to their quarters, casting swift
looks askance as the people of the house began to pair up.

Scott had his own plans.  He sidled up next to Cleopatra and took her two
hands in his, the medium brown woman smiling back and tilting her head.
"Cleopatra," he said, "you have come a long way in exploring and
experimenting here."  She threw her head back and laughed.  "That I have,
Master Scott, that I have.  And I have all of you to thank for that."

"But I think you have some new lands yet to explore; come to my bedroom
with me," he said.  Looking puzzled, then looking intrigued, she agreed,
and the two walked hand in hand down to the second floor bedroom. They
walked in and there, by prior arrangement, squatting on the bed was
Sampson, naked as the day he was born, his medium brown penis at half staff
beneath its wispy patch of brown pubic hair.  "Hello, Mama!" he said, a
wide grin on his face.

Cleopatra gasped and stopped, then seemed to think.  "After all, you and
Delilah were together," Scott reminder her.  She nodded, then walked up to
the edge of the bed.  "Is this alright with you, son?" she asked.  By
answer Sam's penis seemed to bob a couple of ratchets higher, and he
whispered his agreement, the prospects of this new experience evidently
exciting him.  Scott had a twist on the experience that he thought might
excite all of them.  He stood directly behind Cleopatra, holding her by the
shoulders.

"Sampson, you realize of course that you were born of an encounter between
your mother and a white man, like me" he said, now gently massaging
Cleopatra's shoulders.  She closed her eyes and a wistful look came over
her face.  "Your mother was saved for the white man only, and perhaps one
day he came upon her just like this, Sam," Scott continued, now slipping
Cleopatra's garment off one shoulder as he reached around and unbuttoned it
with his other hand.  "Your white master perhaps kissed your mother on the
neck and ears, like this," Scott said, doing so, gently nuzzling the brown
woman from behind.  The buttons undone, he pulled the garment off her other
shoulder.  It paused for a moment, arrested by her breasts, and he now
rubbed both naked shoulders.  Sam was looking with rapt attention, his
penis now fully erect, his breathing plainly coming heavier.  Scott could
almost see his heart beating beneath the coffee and cream skin of his flat
boy chest.

"The white man caused your mother to be undressed," Scott said, and tugged
the garment, which caused it to fall entirely.  "He came up behind your
mother and cupped her breasts, like this," said Scott, reaching around to
do that to her full but taut, pear shaped breasts.  Cleopatra now moaned,
her eyes still closed, and lolled her head back against Scott.  "Fully
undressed," said Scott, as he reached down and with one yank pulled her
undergarment off, to fall at her feet.  He was now pressing into her, and
she pushed her rounded, wide brown bottom back at him.  He continued to cup
her breasts, then slid his hands down over her rounded woman's belly,
ending at last in her thick patch of black, crinkly pubic hair.  One hand
reached up quickly to pull off the scarf around her head, and when her
braids tumbled out Scott ran his hand through them, nuzzling them with his
face.

"Do you like this Sam?" he asked, to which the mulatto boy croaked out,
"Oh, yes Master!"  Scott continued, "And then perhaps your white master
asked your mother to undress him."  Cleopatra smiled and turned around, her
body still close to Scott's, opened her eyes to look directly into his
face, and keeping their bodies as close together as possible, she quickly
undressed him, causing his clothes to fall on the floor next to hers.
Stooping down quickly she helped him out of his shoes.  And then, while in
that position, she took his penis, which was now iron stiff and standing
straight up, and first took just the knob between her full lips, nibbling
it.  Scott moaned and threw his head back, saying in a gasp, "And then she
began sucking him, Sam, sucking the white man's penis."  She took the whole
organ into her mouth, causing him to moan again, and began sucking and
pumping very gently.

"Then, Sam," said Scott, nearly gasping, "the white man told her to lie on
the bed."  She did so, stretching out next to her son, smiling at the boy
as he squatted right beside her, his twelve year old penis now straight up
and oozing a little clear fluid.  "The white man may or may not have done
this," he said, leaning down to the bed and parting her legs, then licking
and sucking her clitoris.  Cleopatra gasped and moaned, pushing her groin
up into Scott's mouth.  He kept the position a moment and then crawled onto
the bed and said, "And then, Sam, the white man entered your mother," and
Scott did so, in one easy push, Cleopatra crying out again in ecstasy and
pressing her hands against the white man's chest, cupping his pectoral
muscles, tweaking his nipples, running her hands up and down his muscular
eighteen year old torso.  Scott held himself up off of her, his palms
against the bed, and began pumping.  "Watch, Sam," he said, "this is how
your white master made you, this is how he pleasured your mother."  Sam was
now just whispering yes, nearly bouncing with excitement.  Cleopatra and
Scott locked gazes, together in spirit as well as in joined bodies, a
single body now moving toward ecstasy, a train speeding toward climax,
faster and faster he pumped, the brown woman pushing her groin up, and then
Scott came, crying out, slamming forward, clenching his buttocks and then
pumping again quickly and clenching again, slamming forward.  He hung there
a moment, moaning and shivering, and then collapsed down onto the brown
woman's body.  She hugged him tightly to her, her fingers running through
his dirty blonde hair, her hands sliding up and down his back.

Scott remained there a moment and then rolled off on the side away from
Sam.  "And now it is your turn, Sam," he said.  "Return to where you came
from."  Cleopatra smiled at her son and helped him as he somewhat awkwardly
clambered over between her legs.  The boy instantly pushed his twelve year
old penis into her vagina, and of course it went very easily, sliding on
the lubrication of Scott's semen.  Cleopatra tilted her pelvis up so she
could pull the boy down onto her, and soon his face was right on her
breasts, he was biting and kissing the breasts, sucking the nipples as he
kept up a pounding rhythm.  His young brown bottom worked, muscles flexing
and clenching, as he fucked the woman on the bed who was his mother.
Cleopatra wrapped her legs around his buttocks to hold him tightly to her,
while with her hands she rubbed his back and whispered encouragement to
him.  It did not take long and soon he stiffened, his hands grasped his
mother's breasts tightly as he lifted his head and roared, almost into her
face, pushing forward in a quick twelve year old's sudden climax.  But then
Cleopatra came also, her vagina tightening around the squirting brown penis
inside her.  Sam could feel the contractions, could feel his mother
shivering and bucking.  Her climax outlasted his and he held on for dear
life as she thrashed, then shuddered, then lay still.

Now Scott snuggled up close to both of them, pulling Sam somewhat in his
direction, so that the light tan mulatto boy lay between his parent and the
ghost of another parent.  The three of them whispered and snuggled, hugged
and rubbed, until sleep overcame them.

Comments welcome
lokiaga@austin.rr.com