CHAPTER 3

BILLY BOB

“I don’t know if I told you,” Lyle said as we drove to his hooker’s place of… business. “You don’t have sex with Willa. Willa has sex with you.”

I ignored him because, for my intentions, it was irrelevant. Therefore it didn’t matter that I had no idea what he meant.

“What I mean,” he continued, “is that Willa is a dominatrix. But that’s what you need, trust me. So be thinking along the lines of how you want to be submissive. You apparently were turned on by Carly controlling you; Willa will take you to another level. She’s got numerous ways to tie you up and spank you. She can gag you, bind your …”

“I get the point, Lyle,” I said, cutting him off. I began to wonder if I was making a huge mistake in seeking a professional date.

We arrived at an old two-story brick house on the outskirts of town. It was actually a quaint, rustic structure that looked like it could be a bed and breakfast. There was a rout iron fence surrounding a rather large grassy lot with four big oak trees in front of the house. The back yard was abundant with plants and had a huge garden. There was a colorful three-by-four-foot sign hanging from a post that said, ‘Mystic Garden,’ with every other letter in red, yellow, orange, green, and blue. Below that in slightly smaller lettering, it read, ‘Herbs, Spices, Produce, and Holistic’. Below that it read ‘Physic Readings by Appointment Only.’

“This isn’t what I pictured a whorehouse would look like,” I told Lyle. The word whorehouse felt strange and dirty on my lips. But like a fool, I proceeded on.

“It’s not necessarily a whorehouse. You see, Willa and her friend Zella La Stella live upstairs,” Lyle said as he pointed to the second floor. “Zella has this holistic market type thing on the first floor, and Willa’s sex chamber is downstairs with the psychic reading room.”

“Sex chamber,” I mumbled not even trying to hide my disgust. What was I doing here? I should leave now! But Lyle was generous enough to be paying, and I wasn’t here for sex. I was here for a companion to accompany me at a social function. And I was willing to pay her handsomely because she was very attractive. I wanted to buy what Lyle would later describe as arm candy.

“It sounds more twisted than it actually is,” Lyle said as he waved a dismissive hand.

“Psychic readings too?” I scoffed. “It’s bad enough I’m see a professional…”

“Don’t knock it – they’re good,” Lyle interrupted.

“So you’ve had psychic readings done?”

“Just once.”

A bell tinkled when we entered the little shop. It smelled fragrant with herbs and spices, and there were a couple rows of canisters, filled with several different varieties. There were also a couple rows of shelves with cans and bagged items stocked on them. Stuff like nuts and dried fruit.

A very beautiful African American woman with high cheek bones and long strands of beaded braids was behind a counter, looking at a papers as she worked a calculator. A dog that looked part chocolate Lab and part German Shepherd appeared and growled at us.

“Free, be a good girl,” the stunning looking woman said.

“Hi, Zella,” Lyle said.

“Hi, Lyle.”

I was about to introduce myself as William when Lyle spoke before me. “Zella, this is Billy Bob.”

“Nice to meet you, Billy Bob,” the woman said with a salesperson’s smile as she extended her hand. “Willa said Lyle was bringing a new client today, you must be him.” I felt my face heat with shame as I realized that Zella thought I was there to have all those things Lyle listed done to me. The dog growled again as we shook hands.

  “I know how you love animals, Billy Bob,” Lyle told me authoritatively. “But keep your distance from Free. She doesn’t like dudes at all.”

“She’s a rescue dog,” Zella explained. “She was mistreated by a man or maybe even men. She doesn’t take to the male population at all.”

“Ironic, huh?” Lyle said with a silly grin. “I mean, given what enterprise Willa runs out of here.”

 “Free keeps her distance,” Zella defended. “She only gets her hackles up if a guy gets too close. She usually stays upstairs. But I did some painting, and I didn’t want her up there breathing the fumes. She’ll give a warning snap first, before she actually would bite. She’s really a sweet girl; she just tries to protect herself because she doesn’t trust men.”

“Frankly, I don’t blame her,” Lyle said with a laugh. This only made me feel more like a pervert.

A backroom door opened and the woman from the magazine Lyle forced me to look at emerged. She was even more gorgeous in person. She had on a red spandex top that clung to her chest as if it were painted on. She wore a black leather miniskirt, black stockings, and lady’s combat boots that laced almost up to her knees. Even though she offered me her hand with a big smile, her lovely golden eyes were wary and cool.

“Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. …” she looked at Lyle for a cue.

I opened my mouth to tell her my name was William, but Lyle beat me to it. “His name is Billy Bob Booker.”

“Billy Bob,” she repeated and beamed a fake smile at me.

“Nice to meet you, too,” I stammered as we shook hands. I was embarrassed how clammy and moist they must have felt due to my nervousness.

“So, who’s going first, or are we doing a combo?” Willa asked cheerfully.

“Oh no, no combo, Willa,” Lyle replied quickly. “We’ll be going separately.”

“Okay then,” Willa said as she placed hands on her hips. “Once again, who goes first?”

“Lyle can,” I blurted. I turned my gaze away from her revealing outfit. I didn’t know it at the time, but she noticed. She later revealed I was the only client she ever had that did something like that.

“Okay then,” Willa said, clapping her hands once and twisting merrily like a happy high school cheerleader. Her lovely eyes danced with excitement, yet a subtle darkness didn’t leave her demeanor. “Just so you know, Billy Bob, I’m not gonna charge you for the first ten minutes so we can go over my requirements.” I nodded, and then watched Willa and Lyle disappear down the stairwell.

“There’s a chair over there if you want to sit,” Zella said before she went back to her papers and calculator.

“Thank you,” I replied, but I was too worked up to just sit. Instead I wandered around the store. I noticed a couple dozen framed pictures of animals on the wall opposite Zella’s counter. I gazed at various photos of dogs, cats and two of a horse that looked similar to one some good friends of mine owned.

“Those are recue animals I’ve found homes for,” Zella told me when she noticed my observation.

“Oh, nice,” I said. “Are you looking for a home for Free also?” Free recognized her name and a male voice that said it. She stood defensively with a low growl.

“No, I’m keeping Free,” Zella sighed. “She and I have sort of a bond I just can’t bear to break.”

“So, the horse. Was it in an abusive situation, too?”

Zella looked at me sharply, with something like subtle anger or hostility. Then her eyes softened. “Not necessarily the horse, just the girl,” was all she said before she returned to her paperwork.

I looked again at one of the two photos. A girl with reddish brown hair was partially hidden as she held the halter. Willa’s hair was darker now, but I was sure that it was her. I ambled around the counter and came within a couple feet of Free. Her hackles rose and she growled loudly. I stood and looked at the canine sympathetically. She had a slight disfigurement with her left eye socket. She was probably blind in that eye. She had several scars that looked like they came from being burnt. Did some low life do that to this beautiful dog? I felt tears well.

“Easy, girl,” Zella soothed and then instructed me sternly. “Can you please step away from her, Billy Bob?”

Lyle was right; I was an intense animal lover. Instead of stepping away, I crouched and began talking softly to Free, telling her I was a friend not a foe. She growled again, but then I asked her about her plight in gentle tones. Her tail thumped twice. A little whimper of longing emitted from her as she took a cautious step toward me. Her tail moved a little more and then went still. I told her she was in a safe place where she was loved and that I loved her, too. Her tail began to swing again.

I’m not saying Free knew the English language, but she seemed to know love. She took more cautious steps toward me. First, I slowly eased the back of my hand toward her, and she sniffed it tentatively. Then she gave it a quick lick. I ever so gently rubbed my fingers on the lower side of her muzzle. Then I pulled my open hand an inch away as I talked softly to her. She brushed her head against my hand. I ever so slowly began to rub and then scratch her ears.

I could tell by the way she moved that her limbs had been injured before. She was no more than five years old, and she wouldn’t have moved so stiffly if she hadn’t been horribly abused. I continued to talk softly to her. She eventually lowered and showed me her belly, which I began to scratch. I felt myself smile and then I chuckled as I looked up at Zella. She stared at me with her mouth agape. I was just beginning to worry that she disapproved when Lyle and Willa burst through the basement door. The commotion caused Free to spring up and scramble away with a couple barks. Lyle looked disheveled, but happy.

“Willa said to go down and wait for her in the chamber,” Lyle told me.

“The chamber,” I mumbled with skepticism.

“You can’t miss it,” Lyle said. “First, you’ll enter a little room where Zella and Willa do psychic readings. Then there will be a bookcase that opens into a door that goes into the chamber. The door should be open. Just go in and get comfortable.”

I went down the stairs, yet again wondering why I agreed to come here. I was surprised to see countless antiquey looking things. It was like a large booth from a flea market. There were   old neon signs, old movie posters, along with countless old pictures and old metal signs. There were several kerosene lamps and candles lit. I saw the opening with the bookcase that served as a secret door and cautiously entered the chamber.

It looked like part torture chamber and part medical exam room. There were tables with whips and restraints. There was leather, lace, and silk. A row of glass display cases lined one wall, two-thirds of which contained devices and gadgets for sale that I’d never seen or imagined before.

“See anything you like?” Willa’s voice startled me.

“No,” I blurted nervously as my head bumped into a glass display. “I mean, I was just looking.”

 Willa was dressed completely differently now. She wore a light blue dress with short white gloves and white heels, and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She had gone from wild biker chick to 1950s era sexy housewife with flesh-colored stockings that had a black line running up the back.

“Lyle tells me you have mommy issues,” she purred, “So I thought you might like this.”

“Lyle smokes too much dope,” I replied without thinking.

“Nothing wrong with that!” Willa said with a grin. “So, let’s discuss the guidelines.”

She began to rattle off many of the things Lyle suggested. She also added some dos and don’ts that Lyle hadn’t mentioned. Mostly don’ts.

“Actually, Willa, I’m not interested in your typical services.”

“What do you mean?” Her pretty face formed a skeptical frown.

“What I mean is,” I replied tentatively, “I don’t want to do anything sexual.”

“Do you not find me attractive?” she asked as if offended. “I’ve never had a straight guy not find me attractive.”

“No, that’s not it,” I reassured her. “You are incredibly, mind-blowingly attractive. Physically anyway.”

“Physically anyway?” she spit, crossing her arms and trying to make her face ugly, which didn’t seem possible. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I sputtered. “I don’t even know you. I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. Because I’m not, you know, judgmental. I don’t think. Boy, do I ever not think. Obviously, I have my own issues, or otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“So, do you have gay tendencies then?” she asked. “I can’t guarantee I’ll make you like girls.”

“I’m not gay,” I replied, shaking my head.

“Lyle said you are his best friend, but you two seem like polar opposites.”

“Well, we’ve been something like best friends since elementary school,” I told her.

“I see,” she said and then paused, once again appearing cautious. “So, why are you here then if your interests are not of a sexual nature?”

“I wanted to see if we could negotiate a deal for you to go to a wedding with me,” I said.

Her mouth gaped open with surprise as she processed my request.

“So you don’t want to get kinky with me?” she inquired. I shook my head. “You want me to be an escort for you?” she asked slowly.

“I want you to pretend to be, um, somebody I’m seeing, but nothing serious.”

“So you want me to be an escort?”

“I don’t like the way that sounds.”

“It is what it is,” she said with a shrug.

“This was a big mistake,” I sighed as I jammed my hands into my pockets. “I don’t know why I thought it might work. I guess I was desperate. Well, thanks for your time.”

I turned toward the bookcase door, but Willa grabbed my arm. “Billy Bob, you’ve still got more than twenty minutes,” she said with curiosity on her face.  “If you don’t want me to get naked and tie you up, you could at least tell me what you were hoping for. What’s going on?”

 As I told Willa the story of Carly and me, I couldn’t look at her. I was suffering from a cross between shame for being there and pain from reliving the heartbreak. When I finished, I forced myself to look at her. I was surprised to see her gazing at me as she wiped what I thought was a tear from her eye. Then she looked at her finger, scowled, and flicked away a chunk of mascara.

“I’m sorry, Billy Bob,” she said with a sigh. “I feel for you and all, but I just don’t do escort stuff.”

“I understand.”

She smiled sadly at me and patted my shoulder.

“Listen, you still have ten minutes left,” she said as she smiled seductively. “Let me at least handcuff you and then I’ll do a little strip tease.”

“No, thanks,” I said, wondering why she wanted to handcuff me first. I smiled pleasantly at her as I exited. I was actually more relieved than disappointed. “Consider the time left on the clock a tip. Can I ask you something though?”

“Sure.”

“You do psychic readings?”

“Zella and I both,” she said, smiling coyly. “Do you want to make an appointment?”

“No, thanks,” I replied. “Do you really believe you can read people’s future?”

“Do I detect a skeptic?” Willa asked, still wearing a teasing smile as she crossed her arms.

“Indeed you do.”

“Oh well,” she shrugged. “I wouldn’t be able to get a reading if you don’t believe.”

I nodded, and then we looked into each other’s eyes. She seemed to puff out her chest. I guessed she was trying to get me to look at her cleavage. With what she said and did next, there was no guessing about it. She made a move to lower her top.

“Look, I feel guilty taking your money without you getting any product, so to speak,” she said. “How about a quick peek?”

“No, thanks,” I smiled before I turned away from her to leave.

She pursed her lips and frowned. “Billy Bob, be straight with me. Am I washed up or are you gay?”

“Neither. It’s just, well, I have principles I live by,” I told her, then pursed my own lips and frowned. Did I just declare I have principles a minute after I sought the employment of a prostitute?             The human heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it? (Jeremiah 17:9)