When I was a kid, all my games of make-believe involved people being in agony. Usually stuff like lying around starving to death or bleeding out from a stab wound. I never thought anything of it or even really noticed this pattern until one of my friends said “Why does someone have to be hurt all the time?” and didn’t want to play with me anymore. So…huh. I guess my story ideas were offputting.
Looking back, I’m amused. Those games of pretending to be dying happened decades before I realized I was a sadist, but I see now that even when I was little I was already eroticizing the idea of suffering.
The complicated part – the thing that made me not put two and two together sooner than this – is that I was pretending to suffer, too, not just telling other people to fake-suffer. But I tend to live my fantasy life through other people’s points of view, anyway. Like, pretty much every single time I’ve gotten off in the last few years was to memories of sex with The Pedant – from his POV. I’d gloss over the specifics of the other body involved and just focus on the thoughts and sensations I imagined he was having, but yeah.