Bed & Breakfast & Fisting
By Clarisse Merigeot
August 1, 2011
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| La Fistinière’s fisting chapel, aka the Fistine Chapel. |
VICE: How did you two meet?
François: At a bathhouse. We quickly fell in love, and Juan told me about fist fucking on our first night together.
Juan Carlos: I tested him right away. He was talented, he got in on his first try. From first contact, you know whether a person’s hand was made for this or not. It’s like somebody’s handshake.
Why did you decide to open a hotel devoted to fisting?
François: We enjoyed throwing orgies at home and wanted to create a place dedicated to fist fucking, where everyone would feel at home. We wanted something welcoming and clean.
Juan: We wanted a place for people to talk, where there would be no discrimination based on race, age, looks, or dick size—somewhere people could come without feeling ashamed because they were fat or even straight.
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| The interior of the fisting chapel is illustrated with examples of the type of business that goes on there. |
Juan: It’s the most intimate sort of relation there is, apart from touching someone’s brain directly with your fingers. With fisting, you’re touching someone’s bowels, and through the bowels, all the internal organs. It’s a practice that requires a lot of attention. It’s the act of opening another’s perception in a spiritual way, and it can be almost religious. I believe in the magic of sex.
What are your guests like?
François: I’ve seen comments online about us like, “You’ve got to be a weirdo to go to this place.” But our guests are people you know: your baker, pharmacist, daughter’s philosophy teacher, dentist, or the surgeon who operated on your grandmother.
Juan: The only thing we have never had is a dad and son.
François: Thank God! [laughs]
Juan: But we did have a guy with a baby seat in the back of his car.
What kind of gear can be found in the fisting chapel?
Juan: We have a veterinary speculum, for cows and mares. It helps to open the anus wide really well. There are also table-tennis rackets for “dick-pong.” You play it with your balls and dick. We have baseball bats, which are meant to be put up one’s ass, of course. The golf clubs are as well, and so are the bowling pins. We also have the big traffic cones that are used on motorways. We use them as seats. [laughs] There are also many different-size ropes, for bondage. Then there are the mallets, which are for banging on the perineum and anus. Every time you knock, it opens wider. Oh, and the cage is for locking up our naughty guests.
What do the neighbors think about your operation?
François: We met the local mayor to discuss our project. Two days ago, policemen came by to see whether we had any problems related to homophobia, which has never happened. Fingers crossed. We invite people from the village sometimes, to have a drink or two, to show that we are normal, nice people.
You told me earlier the stuffage record here was someone who put 14 golf balls up his ass.
François: Is that really interesting? Fisting, for us, is not about performance. It’s about pleasure.
Are you ever impressed by someone’s, um, abilities?
Juan: I can be impressed by the anatomical capacity of someone, yes. A person with a whole arm up his ass, for example.
How does that work? Don’t you run out of space?
Juan: If the person is lying on his back, the intestine goes to the right first, then turns left. The arm follows it naturally. Still, you have to know the anatomy to do this.
François: We’ve never had accidents here, though. If we know someone can be brutal, we’ll keep an eye on him. Everyone watches out for the others.
Do you take part in the fistivities?
Juan: We do it from time to time. We can start touching a guy, but we’re never completely available because we need to keep an eye on everyone all the time.
François: We got to a point when things started to go really bad between the two of us. Once the Fistinière was up and rolling we didn’t have a single minute left for ourselves and almost broke up. We talked a lot and now we each have a second husband. They’re not around all the time, but they give us each extra pleasure. The Fistinière takes all of our time, we’re here every day of the year, 24/7. Between the playroom, breakfast, cleaning, and everything else, there are days when we wish we could escape.
