But it was all part of the deal, of his becoming my object. When he came back into my mind, it shocked me that I’d been able to forget for even a second. By the time I’d decided I really wanted to do it with him, I wanted to be sure we weren’t going to get a few days or a few weeks into it just to have him try to get out of it or negotiate for something easier.ĭuring the second or third week of my turning him into my gimp, I began to forget about him for a few minutes at a time, or even for a half hour or more, if I got pulled into a meeting with the foreman or had to call customer service to argue about a bill or something. I had just wanted to make absolutely sure he was aware of what he’d be getting himself into, and that he wasn’t off in a fantasy world, unaware of certain realities. The potential risks were well worth the reward of him being allowed to truly live as my object. As far as he was concerned, the chances were so remote for any of these possibilities, that it was a no-brainer. The gimp and I had talked about all these dangers and more, in those last couple months leading up to his transformation. Maybe some freak accident would clog up the air tube in his gag. Maybe he’d completely freak out and I’d come home to a zombie gimp, mentally broken beyond the point of what I wanted. Maybe he’d overheat, or there’d be a fire or a gas leak at the house. Horned up beyond belief, but tempered with a strong dose of concern. That first week, the gimp was on my mind practically every second of every day. The other guys had started razzing me about it - was I getting old man’s prostate? Going to jerk off again? If only they knew that’s exactly what I was doing. It’s a relief for me, in a way, because my dick was getting chafed from stepping into the port-a-john to jerk off five or six times a day during those first couple weeks. But the intensity is lessening a little bit, week by week. While I’m on the job, or out with my buds, the excitement of knowing where he is and how he’s bound, and that he’s not moving until I got home, still keeps me hard through the better part of each day. If that wasn't horrific enough, Tarantino is also suggesting that the man is actually dead in the scene, meaning he died just as he was about to taste freedom.It’s been over a month now since my sub became my gimp. Apparently, these guys have been holding this poor fellow captive in bondage gear for nearly a decade, warping his brain into complete submission for his captors. Going by Tarantino's explanation, the Gimp may not have actually been a willing partner in the sexual shenanigans of gun shop owner Maynard (Duane Whitaker) and perverted security guard Zed (Peter Greene) - or, at least, things didn't start that way. In terms of backstory, he was like a hitchhiker or somebody that they picked up seven years ago, and they trained him so he's the perfect victim." Butch knocked him out and then when he passed out he hung himself. "It doesn't quite play this way in the movie, but in my mind when I wrote it, the Gimp's dead. As it turns out, the answers to both of these questions are pretty depressing, as Tarantino says he always saw the Gimp as a subservient kidnapping victim who actually dies during his Pulp Fiction scene. Seeing an opportunity to find out more about the character, one Pulp Fiction fan directly asked Tarantino to explain the Gimp's backstory as well as "what happens to him" after Butch leaves the building.
In an interview with Empire earlier this month, Tarantino fielded a variety of questions from fans.
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