The Conversation.
Megan was seated at the back of the pub at a booth for two. I recognized her by the description Chiara provided me. I made my way to her to introduce myself. She looked up from her mobile phone as I approached and stared at me in silence.
“Megan?” I asked with a chuckle.
She nodded and cautiously asked, “Gil?” She was understandably nervous meeting with a complete stranger to discuss sexual desires and curiosities.
I smiled and replied, “In the flesh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Megan. May I sit down?”
She chuckled and replied, “Of course. Sorry, I’m a bit nervous.”
We ordered drinks and engaged in polite small talk to get a feel for each other. When Megan became comfortable enough in my presence, she asked, “How can pain be sexually arousing to anyone?” I studied the expression on Megan’s face as she spoke. Her eyes had widened, she sat squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply as she asked her question. Perhaps the three signs weren’t enough to be noticed by the inexperienced, but they were enough for a seasoned pervert like me to notice the tell-tale-signs of sexual arousal. “That is what I am struggling to understand. If I step on a Lego piece with my bare foot, as an example, I promise you I don’t get wet.” When she finished asking her question her cheeks became noticeably flush. She was out of her comfort zone discussing her attraction and curiosity of masochism.
I nodded in agreement and asked, “You’ve stepped on a Lego piece?”
Megan clenched her jaw and nodded as the memory returned to her.
“The idea of rough sex and pain arouses and terrifies you at the same time, Megan?” I asked with a salacious grin.
She nodded and lowered her head slightly. Her eyes widened and she whispered, “Yes.”
I smiled and asked, “Have you ever had your ass playfully spanked.”
She nodded again and coyly grinned, “Yes. It was fun.”
“When you answered those three questions, you reacted to each of them in three very different ways.”
Megan quickly replied, “Of course I would have. One was pleasurable and the other caused me great pain. And one is something that thinking about excites me.”
I smiled. “You only recalled the memories of two experiences. You did not re-experience the physical sensations. And one reaction was about an experience you have not had yet. Yet, your body and brain reacted as if you had. If you’re aware of it or not, Megan, all three physical reactions were very similar to each other. Your heart rate increased, your breathing became quicker, and you got a rush of a mix of hormones from each memory. One reaction was designed to help you cope with the pain. The other two reactions were designed to increase your state of arousal.”
Megan huffed and scrunched her lips. She was struggling with the concept of masochism and her attraction to it.
I nodded to let her know I understood her frustration, and said, “Kinks and fetishes are very confusing to understand and, as scientists and psychologists discovered, they are also very difficult to prove why they exist. Let’s assume that for you, a smack on the ass is the minimum requirement to give you a small sexual rush. If you were interested in exploring a more intense sexual rush, you would have to steadily increase the stimuli towards the ‘Lego’ end of the spectrum to find your sweet spot.”
Megan sat up straight and replied, “Okay. That makes sense.”
We have no control over what stimulates us sexually.
I chuckled. “I can also assure you that you will receive a myriad of different explanations if you ask everyone with a fetish why they get aroused. Some of them will admit that they don’t know why they enjoy it; they just know that they do. We all like to believe that we make decisions and choices based on logic when assessing a specific situation by weighing the pros and cons of any decision we have to make. It gives us a self-sense of intelligence and that we are in control. In reality, logic, when it comes to sexual stimulation is an illusion; we have no control over what stimulates us sexually. We can, however, make the choice to indulge or not. This conversation is proof of that. I am sure you did not decide to become sexually stimulated at the thought of being dominated on a whim.”
Megan sat up straight in her chair. The proverbial light bulb turned on in her brain. “I never would have thought of that. That is a very large piece of this puzzle I am trying to solve. I read that some alpha types of men and women are sexually stimulated only by being submissive, logically, that could be interpreted as a contradiction. That it exists, though, does prove that there is more than just logic at work, not only in the choices we make but in what influences us in the choices we make. Am I right?”
I smiled and nodded, “There is a lot of scientific data that proves that, yes, you are correct.”
Megan studied my face as I spoke. She shifted in her chair and asked, “So if I get aroused at the thought of being tied and manhandled, my brain tells me not to, but my instinct tells me to go for it; even if it’s wrong?”
I chuckled. “I don’t believe that any type of sexual activity between consenting adults is something that can be accurately defined as right or wrong. The fight or flight instinct exists in both the hunter and the prey as a survival mechanism. Now, think of how you could use that to your advantage to get the thrill and the rush that makes you feel more alive.”
Megan giggled nervously and whispered, “In that scenario, it could be referred to as fuck or flight.”
I laughed at her reply. “You are witty and funny. May I ask you two questions of a very personal nature, Megan?”
Megan eagerly nodded.
“Have you ever had to stop in the middle of sex because it was causing you or your partner too much discomfort, or because the pleasure sensations had passed? I do not require any of the details. It’s a yes or no question.”
Megan glanced quickly around the bar as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. She took a small sip of wine and replied, “On a few occasions, yes.”
“Communication between everyone involved in a session is paramount. Remember that.” I waited for Megan to acknowledge she understood. She nodded and I continued, “Have you ever been sore or in pain for days after a good, hard, proper fucking. Where the discomfort was not only pleasurable but also sexually arousing?” I asked my follow up question to Megan cold and void of any emotion.
Megan darted her eyes away from mine. My choice of words had caught her off guard and made her extremely uncomfortable.
She cleared her throat and regained her composure. “That was a very rude way to ask a question to someone you just met, Gil.”
I chuckled and replied, “Apologies for my rudeness, Megan. It was regrettably necessary to act in a manner unbefitting of a gentleman to prove a point.” I downed the rest of the scotch in my glass and continued. “Allow me to explain. I asked permission to ask you two personal questions. You agreed and granted me the permission to without providing me any boundaries of what I could or couldn’t ask you. By your reaction, I could sense that it made you uncomfortable. Perhaps you also got aroused. You did, after all, make the choice to allow me to ask you the questions, even though they triggered mixed emotions in you.”
Megan wasn’t pleased but nodded in agreement.
“My second question, though, caught you completely off guard. Logically, you probably expected the second question to have a less intense effect on you. Your brain signaled that the most uncomfortable part was over. You knew the second question would be similar to the first, but, since you were more relaxed, or recovered from whatever anxiety and perhaps embarrassment answering my first question triggered, you were not expecting the effect of my second question to have a more intense and profound effect on your body and mind. The second question, or stimuli, triggered your brain to release a mixture of hormones to assist you in dealing with the mild shock.”
She leaned across the table and whispered, “It was very rude of you, Gil. Period!” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
I smiled and nodded. “Yet, it wasn’t rude enough for you to get up from the table and leave. You chose to persevere. It did not exceed the limits of what you were willing to endure. The same principle applies to physical and emotional stimulation during sex, regardless of its intensity.”
She huffed and took a big gulp of wine to stall for time and not reply to me. I did not press Megan for an explanation as to why she did not leave. The waitress came to our table and asked if we were ready for another round of drinks.
“Would you like another glass of wine, Megan? Or have I worn out my welcome with you?” I asked.
Megan nodded. “One more drink, then I must leave to meet friends for dinner.”
The waitress nodded and said she’d be right back.
“I want you to think about what I am going to say next. No reply is required.” I waited for Megan to agree to what I asked of her. She nodded. “Which of my questions caused a more intense reaction in you? Now that you have had time to recover from the initial shock, anxiety, embarrassment, and perhaps arousal, have I damaged you in any way, physically or emotionally?”
Megan brought the glass of wine to her lips and took a sip as she thought of all the emotions and feelings that my two questions had evoked in her. She met my gaze and said, “Logic and instinct. Interesting. I will admit that arousal was one of the feelings that both your questions triggered in me. Your second question definitely amplified them all. And no, you haven’t damaged me in any way.” She leaned towards me and added, “Therefore, if someone knew that the pain wouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but would only intensify their arousal, and ultimately provide a very intense orgasm. You could logically harness the reward system in our brains to get a bigger rush.”
I grinned and replied, “Logic has nothing to do with it. It is pure instinct, regardless if you’re aware of it or not. If your brain doesn’t need to pump hormones, to give you the rush you referred to, it won’t. There are countless activities that can reproduce that kind of rush. Make no mistake, Megan, the more extreme types of activities you participate in, the greater the risk is to get hurt, and, the possibility of permanent damage is ever existent. The rush you referred to is, after all, is a self-preservation mechanism to protect us from potential harm. When you willingly make the choice to ignore the warning and roll the dice on the consequences, chasing after that thrill by participating in high-risk activity, be it jumping out of a plane or being tied up and whipped, you will learn that things can go sideways at any time and without warning, no matter how skilled, prepared, and what precautions you take.”
Megan leaned closer to me and whispered, “Have you ever unintentionally injured anyone?”
I chuckled, “Does the thought of me hurting someone to sate my sexual needs arouse you?”
Megan swallowed hard as she sheepishly nodded. “Yes. Prior to meeting you, it was only the idea of a man being rough with me. But now that I’ve met you, it has more to do with how you look, how you carry yourself, and the vibe I get from you. I think you are very comfortable in being in control, which in turn would make it easy for me,” Megan caught herself and quickly added, “I meant to say someone – to submit to you.”
I nodded and asked, “Do you get aroused at the thought of inflicting pain on someone?”
Megan shook her head. “No. I don’t believe I could ever do that. But the thought of someone being dominated excites me.”
I smiled at her. “I have unintentionally injured many play partners. If you play with fire long enough you will get burned. I have been on the receiving end of being hurt, too. And have the scars to prove it.”
Megan’s expression turned to a look of confusion. “I thought you only top? How could you possibly get hurt?”
I laughed and replied, “Fucking,” I paused to gauge Megan’s reaction. Her eyes widened slightly. “Forgive my choice of words.”
She chuckled and said, “Please continue.”
“Would you agree that fucking is inherently a violent act? Not to be confused with an act of violence, of course.”
She nodded. “I get the point. Yes, it could be interpreted as an inherently a violent act. Having something hard plunged in and out of you …”
I chuckled. “The second question I asked you. Was the answer to it yes?”
The waitress returned with our drinks. Megan waited for her to place our drinks on the table and take away our empty glasses before continuing.
Megan grinned and nodded. “I’m a little embarrassed, but the answer is yes.”
“You did not feel threatened regardless of how hard you were being fucked whilst in the throes of passion. Your brain had released enough hormones to dampen the pain signals it was receiving and primed your body for an orgasm. If the pain is more than we can handle, our self-preservation instinct kicks in, and we do what we have to do to make it stop. That scenario is what we try to avoid. Add restraints, whips, paddles, clamps and other equipment to the mix, and the risk of injury increases. There have been many times my cock was raw after a session from how roughly I used it. When I am throat fucking a woman, as an example, every thrust of my cock isn’t perfect in sliding between her tongue and palate to the back of her throat. My cock has scraped and banged against teeth many times. Flailing fists, elbows, knees and feet have split my lip open, given me black eyes and bruises anywhere you can imagine on my body. Slips, trips and equipment failure can happen at any time. Your teeth and pretty, painted nails are weapons. I have been bitten and scratched all over my body.” I winked at Megan and added, “My attraction to immobilizing naughty ladies with my rope probably evolved from fearing for my safety.” I chuckled and added, “You women are a frightful bunch, especially when in a hyper-sexually aroused state.”
Megan laughed and nodded. “And don’t you forget it, Mister Renard.”
I chuckled, “I can’t forget it, Megan. Instinct won’t allow me to.” I took a sip of my drink. “You also have to realize that just because the thought of something excites you; it doesn’t mean that you would ever participate in the activity. Chiara keeps inviting me to skydive. She tells me it is the ultimate rush for her. Yes, I can understand how and why skydiving is a thrilling experience but, to be honest, it scares the shit out of me. When it comes to skydiving, my fight or flight choice will always be the latter. Everyone has limits, Megan. Like everyone else, you have to discover and define yours.”
Pain and pleasure are not opposites.
Megan nodded, then pursed her lips and coyly asked, “Would you be willing to provide me some examples of what you do to women? You can change the names to protect the guilty.”
I grinned and replied, “You are an interesting, young lady, Megan. I will provide you only one example. Before I do, it is important that you understand that pain is not the opposite of pleasure. How we perceive, experience and react to both sensations is mentally and physically very similar.”
Megan’s ears perked up. “Don’t keep me in suspense, Gil.”
I grinned and replied, “I am a sadist, Megan. Of course, I am going to keep you in suspense.” I held her gaze as I took a sip of my scotch.
“Tell me, Gil,” Megan whispered. The lowering of her voice was a subconscious attempt to coax me. I observed her facial expression closely as she lowered her head in a symbol of submission, for signs of increased arousal. Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared with each shallow breath she took.
I grinned and asked, “How wet is the anticipation making you, Megan?”
She bit her lower lip and shivered at my question. “Very wet, to my own surprise. Please tell me, Gil.”
I curled my lips into half a snarl and replied in a low, gruff voice, “I will keep you in suspense for a bit longer. I want you dripping from the anticipation, Megan.”
“Fuck,” she softly gasped a breathy reply. “My pussy is clenching hard and I can feel my juice seeping out of me.”
I let out a satisfied, low growl and said, “A married, female friend of mine, who is a gynaecologist by profession, has a tickling fetish. She asked me to assist her in exploring different scenarios. After much experimenting, she found that being immobilized by having her arms and legs tied tight to her gyno chair, and having her panties shoved in her mouth and duct taped shut, was the pinnacle of sexual arousal for her. All I have to do, to send her into a wild frenzy, is alternate between flogging her breasts and telling her that I am going to tickle the soles of her feet. The closer I bring my wiggling fingers to her feet, the more hysterical she becomes. I have to be careful not to make contact with the soles of her feet. If I do, the entire scene is ruined for her, the moment passes. After about half an hour of her crying, muffled screams, and struggling to get free, the torment I put her through peaks and she is rewarded with a gushing orgasm. She tells me she feels reset emotionally and physically afterwards.”
Megan placed her elbows on the table, squeezed her legs together and asked, “Do you get to come?”
“I do. I get very hard from flogging her large breasts, which I do not bind with my rope so that they jiggle and bounce freely on her chest from every strike of the fogger, and, I enjoy watching her suffer, obviously. At the end our little game, before freeing her from the gyno chair, I fuck her ass hard and apply a strip of duct tape on her gaping asshole to keep my cum inside her, at her request I might add.”
Megan gasped. “Kinky. I like the idea that she enjoys feeling your cum in her ass for hours afterwards.”
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Megan.
I looked at Megan and sternly warned, her, “Before you rush into any of this, always remember that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. At this moment, Megan, you possess a little knowledge. You could be taken advantage of and hurt, if you choose a play partner that possesses little to no knowledge, also.”
“I will remember those words of wisdom,” she replied.
“If you ever need a reminder, think of the two questions I asked you and your reactions to them. Then imagine being tied and helpless and being at someone’s mercy,” I sternly warned her.
Her phone vibrated and chimed. She pouted as she stood from her chair and said, “I’m already late. I really must be on my way to meet friends, Gil. Thank you for meeting with me, and for the informative and fascinating conversation.”
I stood from my chair and replied, “The pleasure was all mine, Megan.”
Megan took a deep breath and softly laughed as she shook her head. “I can’t believe I am going to ask this. Would you consider allowing me to watch you and Chiara in a session? Our chat has left me way beyond curious.”
I laughed, “I’m sure Chiara would make herself available if you asked her. She enjoys an audience. Perhaps we could take turns tying Chiara. She tells me you are quite the artist with rope.”
“I would love that,” Megan smiled.
