Kayt Sukel went to extraordinary lengths to help researchers learn more about the neuroscience of the female orgasm

The first question, invariably, is, "Excuse me? You had a what where?" It's not a surprise, really. People may not be shocked if you tell them you managed a wank on, say, the train or even in a public restroom. But when you announce that you took part in an orgasm study and managed to reach climax in a functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) scanner as it recorded the blood flow in your brain? Well, that's not something one hears every day.

It's not the most romantic spot one might engage in self-loving. In fact, if you've ever spent time in an MRI scanner, it may seem nearly impossible. It's claustrophobic, dark and very, very loud in that cramped chamber. But, both as research for my book Dirty Minds: How Our Brains Influence Love, Sex and Relationships, and for my own morbid curiosity, I volunteered to help out Rutgers University's legendary orgasm researcher, Barry Komisaruk, and come for the science.

The second question people ask me is, "How on Earth did you manage it?" The simple answer: keeping as still as humanly possible. If you move too much during an fMRI you can compromise the data.

Kayt Sukel with the 'orgasm mask'. Photograph: Kayt Sukel

A few weeks before my scanning session, Komisaruk's associate, PhD student and sex therapist Nan Wise, walked me through the procedure. She said to help keep movement to a minimum (and the data clean), I would be fitted with a breathable plastic mesh helmet that would be screwed to the scanner bed. I'd be locked in and need the assistance of others to get out of the contraption.

I'll be honest, I'd never previously considered the amount of movement in my orgasm habits prior to that conversation. I started to worry that I might not be up to the task. But when I mentioned my fears, Wise laughed.

"I know you can do it. Just practice," she said. "You know what they say. Practice makes perfect!"

For the next two weeks, I did just that. To help optimise my body movement for fMRI, I attached a small bell – an ornament belonging to my cat – to my forehead with some duct tape.

Wise was right. With practice I diminished any jingling sound to something manageable, no matter how raucous I may have felt on the inside. And once she and Komisaruk had bolted me to the scanner bed, while it wasn't easy to work up to an orgasm, I found it wasn't quite as difficult as I had imagined.

Kayt Sukel is a science and travel writer. Her first book, Dirty Minds: How Our Brains Influence Love, Sex and Relationships, will be published in February 2012