“I see. And did he explain to you what one was?”
I nodded. I thought I understood. It was as if James either didn’t completely believe me or he wanted to make sure I had the correct information.
“A masochist needs, or thrives, on certain things to be present in order for them to become sexually aroused or to even orgasm.” I could feel the heat building on my face as he spoke and described me. “Many times, some form of pain is involved. It can be mild, such as a spanking, or a bit more extreme. It can be imposed onto them, like being paddled or flogged. Or it can be self-imposed,” James paused and then squeezed my shoulder, “such as cutting.”
Fuck. It just dawned on me that I had been like this, this masochist, since middle school.
“But it doesn’t always have to be physical pain, Brandon.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. It can be emotional and mental.”
My mind raced as I tried to understand and grasp what he was saying or what it was leading to. Though my heart continued to pound, I found myself eager and excited to hear what would come next. I wasn’t afraid to hear it.
“Forms of humiliation, or degradation, can also excite a masochist. There are masochists who don’t like physical pain at all or some only on the mild side.”
“I don’t know if I like those, but I know that I do like some pain.”
“Think about it for a moment, Brandon. No one initially thinks they like to be humiliated. But think back to how you felt when your friend spanked you. Wasn’t it humiliating to be put over his knee and exposed like that? Vulnerable, but eagerly awaiting the first slap.”
Oh my god.
“Submission, on a deep level, can even be a form of masochism.”
“You’re right,” I admitted. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“And why would you have? You only know and can understand what has been explained to you, pup.”
My mind was racing. I raised my head and shifted my body in my chair so that I could look up at him. As I moved, his hand slid across my back, but he didn’t let go of me. His hand remained on my right shoulder, comforting and supporting me.
“How … how do you know all of this stuff?” I asked.
A huge smile spread across his face, which forced me to smile a little too. I pressed my tongue against one of the wounds on the inside of my mouth to ease the ache.
“Because … I’m the man who needs a masochist. I’m the guy who needs to humiliate, degrade, and inflict pain or unease for my release. I am the yin to your yang. I’m a sadist.”
Unable to believe what I was hearing, I just stared at him. James was a sadist? But … how? He had been nothing but kind to me. My expression must have given away my confusion, and he smiled at me.
“I take it that you have some misconceptions about what being a sadist means,” he ventured.
“Um, yeah. Maybe I don’t understand everything, or much of anything. But I’m interested in hearing what you have to say,” I explained.
It was the truth too. I really enjoyed being around James. He had practically taken care of me since I had arrived at the hospital. I didn’t have him pegged as a cruel sadist, but perhaps that was where what I thought I knew was wrong.
“A sadist isn’t a terrible person. They just like to play rougher, in a nutshell. They aren’t cruel or heartless. Like you, or anyone, they have needs. They enjoy manipulating the mind, pushing a body to their limits, and dancing with a soul that’s just as dark as theirs. And afterward, they take care of the brave soul that gave so much of themselves for their enjoyment. It’s a very unique and special person that can meet the needs of a sadist.”
“How do you meet people who can meet your needs?” I asked.
“Well, Brandon, there are clubs that cater to people with certain desires and kinks, if you will. Typically, they’re very welcoming places where everyone respects one another and their needs or wants.”
“Like a sex club?”
James laughed and shook his head.
“No, pup. Those are two totally different things. A kink or fetish club has patrons who are into things like bondage, or spanking, along with some other darker types of play. Things that many people in society suggest as being wrong or weird are welcome there. Incredible relationships can be formed between patrons, and safety, care, and respect are held in the highest regard. Sex clubs are for people who mainly are going for some visual entertainment and to get off quickly. Kink clubs are very different. At least, the one that I belong to is.”
“You belong to a kink club?” I pried.
