He Doesn’t Like Figging
Paltego is a submissive man who likes a lot of things. But he didn’t enjoy figging:
Unfortunately when I tried it, the only thing I could think of was curry. Red hot, melt the plastic bag, take-away curry. The kind I used to get in England after consuming many beers on a Friday night out. The kind that tasted so good at the time, but I always knew I’d pay for the next day. At any moment during the figging I expected the taste of stale lager in my mouth and a flock wallpaper flashback. The pain from the ginger wasn’t enough to be masochistically interesting, but it was enough to make me think of churning stomachs, hangovers and hours spent anchored to the porcelain throne.
Isn’t it amazing how strongly sense-memories can affect us? The other day I had a Tequila Sunrise. Enjoyed it, but didn’t enjoy quite so much the unexpected sensory flashback to a barely-remembered party some quarter century ago where I drank way too many of them. Same phenomenon, I’m thinking.
Fortunately all is not lost, because Paltego did find and include with his post a very nice picture of a man being figged while wearing a home-made version of The Humbler.