Free Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey by Neige Blanche Page B

like if my partner has me immobilized.”
    “Immobilized? You mean, like, tied up?”
    “Yes. Your pain pleasures me and it helps me know I am in control.”
    “You want to hurt me?” A wave of fear rose in me and I moved away from him. I thought of the last time Steve beat my mother for oversleeping. “Oh god, no, I want you to want to hurt for me.”
    I kept my distance. “I always kinda wondered how all that worked.”
    “The thing with you, though, is our experience this morning was totally new to me, so spontaneous and explosive. I didn’t plan on fucking you at all.” He moved closer to me. “It just happened so naturally and I wasn’t in total control like I usually am.”
    “Well, you seemed like you were. You were kinda rough, too.”
    “If you think that’s rough, you have no idea how wonderful it can be. We’ll explore your limits together and when you reach them, we’ll go from there. Oh, Nez, it’ll be truly blissful and exciting for both of us.” He paused. “And really, baby, as with anything in life, if there’s no pain, there’s no gain. You have to like it or it isn’t pleasurable to me. Do you understand?” He took my face in his hands and his eyes were all I saw. “Do you trust me?”
    “Yes, Mr. Delacroix, I’m getting there.”
    He jumped up and whooped like a madman. “Come on, let’s go meet Mother and get some lunch.”
    “What?” Just when I thought I was getting somewhere in figuring him out, he would throw another curveball.
    “Mother’s waiting on us. She’s been waiting an awful long time, too.”
    Either I was out of my mind, or I had misheard both Ty and Sunny when they told me his mother had died when he was a young boy. We meandered through Pirates Alley and Mr. Delacroix showed me the spot where he had found Sunny barely alive.
    “God, Nez, I thought the kid was dead. Someone did such a number on him. He was beaten and raped, all covered in bruises and whacked out on heroin, barely breathing. See, love, that’s not the kind of pain we’re talking about here. The only pain that pleases me is the pain you want to give me. My pleasure comes from knowing that pain helps you reach your sweetest potential. It’s the kind of pain that you’ll live for, and it is the kind of pain that helps me live.”
    He pulled me on and we came out on lively, loud Bourbon Street. “Here’s the real carnival. I don’t venture over here too much because it is all tourists, but when I was younger and stupid, I’d come over here and get my jollies.”
    We hung a left and passed tourists of all ages milling about the drink stands, bars, and strip clubs. Periodically, Mardi Gras beads would rain down from a balcony.
    “People can just walk around here drinking alcohol like it’s a Coke?”
    “Yep, pretty crazy.”
    We approached Bienville Street in a slightly quieter area and jogged right.
    “Here it is, cher, Sunny’s Bar.”
    It was small, but cute and cozy. Live blues music came from the back. The neon sign was yellow and bright, beseeching all to Visit Sunny's Bar! I wanted to go in, but Mr. Delacroix yanked my arm. “Not till five, Miss Nez.”
    We came to the next road and took another left until we approached a four-lane split thoroughfare. The traffic was heavy, so we went one block to our right and crossed in the crosswalk. Modern high-rises and a mall and hotels like you see in most cities. I was disappointed; I had hoped all of New Orleans was as beautiful and tragic as the French Quarter.
    We stood on the corner of Carondelet and Canal to wait for the streetcar.
    “Nezzie, baby, have you ever heard of A Streetcar Named Desire ?”
    “Mr. Delacroix, if you don’t stop it, I will punish you!” I smiled.
    “Promise?” he asked eagerly and handed me the riding crop.
    “Oh, give me that thing!” I grabbed the crop, and people, mostly tourists, stared at us. I shook it at them.
    Mr. Delacroix laughed so hard he could barely stand up straight. “Gotta love