Back to the Fuchsia Read online

  Ezzy’s face swiftly lost all muscle tone. She wasn’t about to answer. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. Maybe we can pop back in when Cosmos gets back.”

  “Forget it. He’s seven hundred years old, and I bet the witches he’s with are equally as old. Folks that old move like snails. That orgy could take days, maybe even weeks, to complete. Just grab some bottles of tints and a few cans of base paint. I bet you could mix and match them at home. We even have an old spell book at the Union office that you can borrow. It’s all about paint. I bet with a little magic, you can make exactly what you want.”

  “Okay. Would you hold my tote open? I’ll toss a bunch in.” Ezzy held open the bag while I used my wand to trace a pentagram. I sang out the spell to make my tote bag bottomless.

  “Carry, carry, conceal and carry. I’ll shove it in, thick or thin. You’ll take it all, make it small, like it’s nothing at all.”

  Ezzy arched one eyebrow and stared at me. “Excellent spell. Really useful. Good work. But, Gertie, seriously girl, you need to work on your spell-writing. Where do you get your lines? The comments on porn sites? That was horrendous.”

  “But effective,” I replied, lowering bottles of tint and cans of paint into the seemingly bottomless tote bag. “I can carry an entire day’s shopping in my magic tote and all of it together won’t take up more space than a handkerchief. When I get home, I just flop it down. Poof! Everything grows to original full size.”

  “That’s what he said.” Finally smiling, Ezzy peered into the depths of the tote bag. “Have you ever seen what happens to the things you’ve put in your bag? It’s like an abyss, just darkness.”

  She slowly dipped her hand deep into the tote, cautiously probing around for the paint cans. Ezzy must have touched something frightening because she jerked her hand out like she’d been bitten. “That felt very odd. I hope you’re careful with this magic. Who knows what could happen.” Ezzy’s eyes seemed to be a bit glazed. I figured she had simply scared herself.

  “No. Once I toss my spoils in, I don’t worry about them until I get home. It sure works great, but to be honest, I’m afraid to put my hand in there when it’s enchanted. After I reverse the spell, it’s just a normal tote bag.”

  I hoped I was right. Ezzy’s cautionary words and her weird reaction weren’t disconcerting enough for me to dwell on the frightening thought that I may have created a portable black hole.

  I was ready to move on. “I think I have more than enough. I’m just disappointed that I couldn’t get the paint mixed up right here.”

  “No worries. Like I told you, a little magic and it’ll be better than anything Cosmos could ever concoct.”

  We left the dusty store and window shopped for a block. The sight of a mother and daughter witch combo exiting the shop across the street caught my attention.

  “Ooh, Build-A-Were! I can’t wait to have a little girl. We’ll go into Build-A-Were and make the cutest little were-bears, or were-bats.”

  “A little girl, you say? That’s very sweet. I could see you with your very own little mini-me skipping along together. But first, you must choose a daddy.”

  “What do you mean? There’s no question who my child’s father will be. It’s going to be Rand—Brad.”

  I gasped at my nearly wrong answer. If you could have seen the mental image I had of me kicking the hell out of my brain, you would understand. What the hell was wrong with me? Did I almost say Randy?

  Ezzy was already peeking through the window of another shop. “Ah, Nirvana. Come on, Gertie. Let me show you what fun really is.”

  I was relieved that she seemed distracted enough by finding a store of her liking, I figured she completely missed what I said.

  I was wrong.

  “You know, Gertie, your initial answer was Randy. We’ll have to talk about that.”

  “Of course, you’d never miss a chance to take full advantage of a slip of the tongue.”

  “HmHmm. In more ways than one, sweetheart.” She smacked my butt cheek, ushering me into the store.

  I took one step inside. My eyes darted around the store. I froze mid-stride, beholding one horrific device after another. I could have sworn I’d just stepped into a medieval torture chamber.

  Chains and restraints of all sorts swung from racks and boards. There was even a large wooden pillory—you’ve seen them in pictures, those wooden contraptions that locked a criminal’s head and arms down so they could be put on a humiliating display in the town square.

  A leather masked male mannequin was restrained in the brutal apparatus. A masked female mannequin stood in the shadows behind him. Even more mannequins, at various intervals, lined the walls.

  “What is this? A museum? I certainly hope these things aren’t being used in Salem.”

  “You have so much to learn, Gertie. Now get moving.”

  Chapter 5

  Kinky Hex

  I stepped forward, cautiously. I had to convince myself the menacing, leather-harnessed, whip-toting figures were nothing more than harmless plastic.

  By the time I got to the pillory, I had a better view of the faux couple. Other than the leather mask, the man wore nothing more than a leather strap ensemble that held his little cock in a tiny silver cage. If that wasn’t bad enough, his bare arse stuck out like he was about to take a paddling.

  The cage. I couldn’t get over it. It terrified me and made me intensely curious at the same time.

  “Merciful hour! Would you look at that poor lad’s spunkpumper? The poor thing is squeezed into a wire cage! Just like a pig in a poke. Now that’s torture.”

  “You have to understand something. This is not torture. It’s erotic. It’s sex for refined, cultured people. And for your information, a lot of men want to be dominated by a woman.”

  I pointed at the female mannequin. “Is that what she’s doin’?” The female figure was no less shocking. Her black shiny corset squeezed her boobs through a pair of holes. Pain—it was the only word that came to mind. Around her waist was a leather harness specially designed to hold something. A thing so shocking and ridiculous, there’s no decent words to describe it, so I’ll speak plainly.

  She had a big rubber pecker strapped to her waist, and that thing stood at attention like the best of them. I flicked the end of the wobbly pink toy and broke out in laughter.

  “Well, I hope the Michelin man doesn’t find out she’s been diddlin’ the missus.”

  “That’s for her man.”

  “Huh? Did you say her man? What in Odin’s name do you mean, Ezzy?”

  Ezzy selected a stout leather pig whip from a nearby rack and whacked the mannequin across his ass. She hit it so hard I nearly jumped out of my shoes. “Pegging. She uses the toy on him.”

  I was dumbfounded. I never even considered something like that. “Oh, I get it. He’s gay.”

  “No. Any guy would love this kind of attention from his lover.” Curiously enough, she held up both hands, only two fingers extended on each, and she clawed the air when she said the word “attention.”

  “Huh.” I looked around at the inventory of pig whips, riding crops, handcuffs, and every restraint you can imagine. There were even more things that I couldn’t even begin to describe. “You say this is how refined, cultured people are having sex nowadays? I think what Brad and I have is wonderful. I can’t believe beating the daylights out of each other and shoving fake peckers up his arse could make life any better. People can do what they want. Who am I to say? But this sort of thing? I can’t imagine it.”

  “Trust me, this kind of sex—kinky sex—has gone mainstream now.” There went her little claw hands once again when she said “mainstream.”

  “By the way, what does it mean when you make little bunny ears with your fingers when you say certain words, Ezzy?”

  “Bunny ears? Oh, you mean virtual quote marks. Whenever you say a word that is really special, you should use them.”

  “Gotcha.” I mimicked her quote mark gestu
re. “It’s kind of fun actually.” Repeating the quotes when I said “fun.”

  I was wide-eyed and dumbfounded as I turned around to see the displays of strange clothing. I could see why people found the skimpy clothing erotic, but I wasn’t aroused.

  “So, this is all the rage? I wouldn’t even know where to start. Brad never mentioned anything like this before. Nothing at all. Well, how’d you like to get out of this place? I could go for a snack.”

  Ezzy rummaged through her purse and found a few red foil wrapped candies. “Here, have a mint. They’re a Salem specialty.”

  Thanking her, I unwrapped one and put it in my mouth. The taste was only slightly minty, a bit salty, and kind of sweet. It was more like a gob of dried toothpaste than a mint. I had to politely swallow it down.

  “He hasn’t mentioned it to you because he knows you’re so innocent and inexperienced in these matters. He wants it, he’s just afraid to ask you. A lot of men feel that way. The best way for you to bring it up is to surprise him.”

  Ezzy touched a lock of my hair. I knew what she was doing. It was her magical way of getting into my thoughts.

  “Poor girl, he’s not keeping up with your witch’s sexual appetite. Is he? Why, I’ll bet he’s already started telling you he’s too tired for sex, or it’s been a long day. If he’s saying those things, he really means sack time has become boring.”

  Ezzy’s words smacked me square in the face. Just like that, she confirmed my worst fear.

  Brad was getting bored with our nightly sexy time? It truly pained me. Why wouldn’t he want me every single night? That was the moment I started to seriously consider Ezzy’s advice. “Surprise him? Are you sure? What do I say? ‘Hey, Brad, put on this horse bridle. Bend over, big boy. I’m going to handcuff you to the bedrail. Surprise! I’ve got me a giant rubber Mickey, and it’s going right through the back door, Boyo’. Ha! I believe I’d never see him again.”

  “If you’re not sure how to discuss these things with your partner, but really want to take your intimacy and trust to the next level, what you need is a certified intimacy therapist.”

  “Certified, you say? A therapist? I wouldn’t even know where to find a…” Ezzy’s fingers pressed against my lips, silencing me.

  Producing a small card from her purse, she took her hand away. “Please. I happen to be fully qualified. I even have a business card.” She placed the card in my hand and I promptly read it out loud.

  “What’s this? Good for one free twenty-four ounce coffee at Rachel’s Coffee Coven, Downtown Salem? I don’t see how…”

  “Give me that. Here, this one.” Ezzy replaced the tattered coffee club card with a professional looking business card.

  I looked at the new card. “I guess if you have a business card, you must be official.”

  “One hundred percent legit. Could I be anything less, Gertie?”

  I read her business card out loud:

  Kinky Hex, LLC.

  Esmeralda Warren

  Level Nine Witch in Spells & Potions

  Certified Dominatrix

  Intimacy Therapist and Sex Surrogate

  Call Witches Union Local 1313 to schedule an appointment.

  “Like the name says, Kinky Hex. So, are you ready to thrust your love life into high gear?” Ezzy asked, her eyes still strangely glazed.

  Bizarrely enough, everything Ezzy said about this refined and cultured wild sex got me excited about the possibilities. “This is weird to say, but all of a sudden, I am. Yes! I really am! How do we start? What exactly does an Intimacy Specialist do anyway?”

  “Think of me as a coach. I’ll come over and we’ll have a talk. Maybe go over some equipment. I’ll coach both of you on what to do. Explain a few techniques and let you try them out. That’s all. Really, it’s a way to open doors of communication so you and your lover can easily discuss any intimacy issues.”

  I pictured the three of us in the parlor having a very modern adult conversation. I was convinced it would be good for us, my inhibitions drifted away and my heart pumped intensely. “I think you’re right, Ezzy, let’s do it.”

  Ezzy giggled, nearly to the point of cackling. “I’ll give you a call sometime, we can talk about it a little more. Anyway, we should be heading back soon. Marie will be one pissed off witch if I don’t get that ghost tour wrapped up.”

  We returned to the sidewalk and I read the lettering on the awning of a nearby café. “Rachel’s Coffee Coven. Your favorite place, Ezzy. Do you have time for tea at least?”

  “I always have time for tea.”

  Chapter 6

  Forced Confession

  A beautiful floral china tea set floated through the café door. It flawlessly navigated its way through the small tables, chairs, and umbrellas clustered together on the sidewalk.

  “Now, that’s my kind of flying saucer,” I joked, watching the tea set gently land on our table.

  Ezzy thoughtfully stirred her tea for a minute before shaking her spoon at me. “I wish I knew who the bonehead was that requested a ghost tour without advance notice. When I find out, I’m going to turn that witch into a toad. Temporarily, of course.”

  “Bonehead, you say?”

  “Yeah. Why?” Ezzy squinted, leaning into me, up close and personal. “Are you the bonehead?”

  “No. I had nothing to do with the tours for those new guests.”

  “Aha! So it has to do with your Paranormal Plantation. It certainly wasn’t Brad. That leaves only one person. It must be your other boyfriend, Randy.”

  “Yes. I mean no! Yes, Randy is the bonehead, but he is certainly not my other boyfriend. Good Lord. Why would you even joke with me like that?”

  “Who said I was joking? After all, Randy is a very attractive man. You live together and spend more time with him than Brad. Sure, Randy’s gay, but you certainly aren’t. You can’t tell me you haven’t found yourself lounging in the bath, indulging some fantasy involving Randy.”

  Her hand swept across the table and she gently twirled a lock of my hair with her finger. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she smiled with that sly closed-lipped, knowing smile of hers. It’s something of a trademark look she’d perfected over the centuries.

  “Ah, no. Something else. Not a fantasy. I know. A dream. You surprised yourself with a completely unexpected sexual dream with Randy.”

  She retracted her hand and returned to her tea. Looking quite smug and speaking in her best matter-of-fact voice, “Your naughty dream really is completely normal—almost expected actually. And don’t you worry your pretty little head, it’ll be our secret.” Ezzy sipped her tea. “Conditionally, of course.”

  “Really? Expected?” I found myself choking on my tea. I suppose I surprised myself with my initial response. “That’s just ridiculous and sick. Anyway, what do you mean by conditionally?”

  “Allow me to be indelicate.”

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Ezzy.”

  “A minute ago, I got a glimpse of your dream. From what I could tell, it’s pretty damning, yet part of you still longs to tell me everything. I’ll admit, you’ve aroused my curiosity. I just have to know what it’s all about.”

  Ezzy twirled her finger in a lock of my hair. “You should tell me, or I may have to ask someone else about what you were doing in that dream. I’m sure more than one person would like to have a discussion about your silly little dream.”

  I know my response sounded quite terse as it flew from my mouth. “You’re a wicked witch, Esmeralda Warren. Saints forgive me, but you are as wicked as they come.”

  I took a deep breath. I had no choice but to spill the beans. She already knew I dreamt something. If I didn’t play along with her little extortion act, she’d certainly bring it up to Randy, or even worse, Brad.

  “You’re right, Ezzy. It was just a silly dream I had once.”

  “Something must have triggered it, though. Do tell.” Her eyes remained clouded. “Tell me everything.”

  “Ugh. A couple of mont
hs ago, I walked past Randy’s bedroom. His door was cracked and I heard him breathing heavy, all noisy—you know, huffing and puffing. I called out to see if he was all right. When he didn’t answer right away, I peeped into his room. There he lay, naked as a newborn babe, Sweet Baby Jaysus! That was not what I expected. And what did I see? The boy was tearing the handle off himself with one hand and choking his bullocks with the other. For a second, I thought he might be having a fit, or something. But then I realized what was going on. It was a sight enough to make his guardian angel run home to Heaven. His hand jigged up and down like he shook hands with a kangaroo. Then he suddenly stopped and squeezed it like he’d just caught a snake in the wild. Just for a few seconds, though. Then he’d go right back to work on the monkey.”

  “Ahahaha! You walked in on Randy while he was bashing the bishop!”

  “Oh, yeah. He beat that bald man like it owed him money.”

  “He had to have known you were spying on him. Maybe he wanted you to see him.”

  “No. He had his headphones on, so he didn’t have any idea I was there. I’d never watched a man do that kind of thing before.”

  I thought about my reason for keeping my feet firmly planted in the doorway. “I suppose I was curious more than anything. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d always secretly wondered what they do with it by themselves. It’s a bit of a letdown, you know? I did find out, though, that he’s not called Randy Johnson for nothing. Judas Priest! It's huge and it even curved up. I’ve never seen one like that before! Christ almighty, it looked like a baby’s arm flexing its biceps. Then, without warning. Boom. He was done. I got away from the door and around the corner as fast as I could. You would have thought Kate or Wills lit a fire under my arse.”

  “So you got turned on by it, huh?”

  “Not really. I was curious for sure. Mostly, I was ashamed at myself for invading his privacy like I did. Randy really is my best friend and we do have a connection. You could call it love. But like friends have. I’ve never considered anything physical between us.”