some experiences (triggers for covert seduction, porn)
Jacob S
Registrant
On another forum, a question was asked about the first time we saw sexual material on the internet. The question brought up more things than I thought it would and I kind of let myself talk about somethings I don't usually say. I've decided to share it here too since you guys might understand better than the original audience.
A recounting of my most earliest experiences with internet erotic enticements was requests, and I am only too happy to oblige. Being of an older generation, my initial envoys into the world of pornographic material were strictly analog, consisting of the proverbial "woods porn" and a VHS collection my chum purloined when he broke into a neighbrohood residence. My first interaction with the digital variety of this widespread recreation was a glance into the browser history of my clan's computer and discovered what my father had been looking at -- a bit of a reversal compared to many of the stories shared on this page. Frankly, even in my relative inexperience, I found his tastes unimaginative. Picture after picture of (full grown) women pretending to be cheerleaders getting undressed. While certainly exciting, even then the air-brushed beauty and unthreatening tone of the portfolio lowered my esteem of my father. The VHS collection I referred to above primarily consisted of stories of women putting on dildos and raping other women. I can certainly assure you, dear readers, that had I had my say in choice such a subject would never have even entered my young imagination. It is certainly nothing that I have ever particularly cared to seek out again. But I did appreciate the subversiveness of the scenerio, the undermining of traditional gender expectations, and above all the understanding that sex was something powerful and dangerous. Any attempts in visual or written literature to domesticate the activity have always felt to me naive and cowardly.
It was shortly thereafter that I discovered newsgroups (usenet) and found that my father's vanilla treasures were far from the limit of what "cyberspace" had to offer. Very early on, when I was not so far past the age of watching the show unironically, I came across a comic of the Talespin characters where Rebecca seduced Kit. I felt surprisingly connected to Kit in that comic and still remember it clearly. However, due to both the nature of slow speeds and my own technical inexperience in understanding binary files, I primarily gravitated toward stories. The first story that really grabbed my interest was the tale of a ninth grader who is seduced by his friend's mother. I am ashamed to say that while I thought of myself as a bright and literary youth, I failed to see the clear and obvious reason why this story attracted me so. Minus the explicit sex, the thing was a very close approximation of what I was experiencing at that very moment in real life. The mother of a friend I had met in seventh grade had taken me as a confidant and companion. Invariably when I would come to my friend's house, sooner or later she would steal me away for some contrived favor and then we would spend the next hour or two sitting alone as she poured out her heart to me. I learned the intimate details of her life. Her husband and her were not happy in bed because he would not be dominant enough with her. He was, in her view, a weak man who had failed to protect their now six year old child -- who had been sexually assaulted two years previously in their own back yard by a neighbor boy. The boy in question was my own age (so sixth grade at the time of the assault, 8th or 9th grade when I learned about it) and while I did not know him well, did occassionally see him at school. No charges had been filed and the entire situation had been mostly hushed over, which the mother was ambivalent about. She shared how the event had destroyed her husband's interest in sex and told me -- in detail -- of the various physical and roleplaying practices she had employed to try to arouse him.
I was her friend, her therapist, her confessor. The person she looked forward to seeing and the one she unburdened herself too. I was, in retrospect, practically her boyfriend. Our relationship was never physical except for lingering hugs she would give me and one time -- one time only -- when I was sleeping over with her son she came into the room and gave us both kisses goodnight. She kissed her own son on the cheek. To me (I was fifteen), she touched my cheek and looked straight in my eyes and kissed me briefly but intenselv on mouth. We never spoke of it.
Ironically, it was that kiss that was the most dissimilar to my previous relationships with grown women. Not just the nature of the kiss, but any physical intimacy at all. I was so good at being her friend and companion because my own mother had raised me to be hers. I was my mother's emotional support and hearer of all her secrets. The only difference was that my own mother loathed touching me in any way.
As often happens, it was only many years later that I recognized the emotional grooming and seduction that both of these women employed on me. Both relationships were as intimate and boundary-less as any romantic interaction and while not physically sexual, was intensely sexual in the confessions and topics they both chose to share with me. At the time, I felt honored and proud of my ability to be such a stalwart emotional support.
I apologize that this has become less about the internet and more about my teenage years, but this story does demonstrate how internet porn connects with real world experiences. For me, not as a matter of porn destroying my respect for women or anything like that, but rather that visual and written media give the audience a context and a language to contextualize their own experiences. for me, the art and stories I found were the first step in me in building my own conversation about what had happened to me. Would it have been even better if an enlightened adult had been able to hear my secrets. Yes, absolutely. But that was not going to happen.
A recounting of my most earliest experiences with internet erotic enticements was requests, and I am only too happy to oblige. Being of an older generation, my initial envoys into the world of pornographic material were strictly analog, consisting of the proverbial "woods porn" and a VHS collection my chum purloined when he broke into a neighbrohood residence. My first interaction with the digital variety of this widespread recreation was a glance into the browser history of my clan's computer and discovered what my father had been looking at -- a bit of a reversal compared to many of the stories shared on this page. Frankly, even in my relative inexperience, I found his tastes unimaginative. Picture after picture of (full grown) women pretending to be cheerleaders getting undressed. While certainly exciting, even then the air-brushed beauty and unthreatening tone of the portfolio lowered my esteem of my father. The VHS collection I referred to above primarily consisted of stories of women putting on dildos and raping other women. I can certainly assure you, dear readers, that had I had my say in choice such a subject would never have even entered my young imagination. It is certainly nothing that I have ever particularly cared to seek out again. But I did appreciate the subversiveness of the scenerio, the undermining of traditional gender expectations, and above all the understanding that sex was something powerful and dangerous. Any attempts in visual or written literature to domesticate the activity have always felt to me naive and cowardly.
It was shortly thereafter that I discovered newsgroups (usenet) and found that my father's vanilla treasures were far from the limit of what "cyberspace" had to offer. Very early on, when I was not so far past the age of watching the show unironically, I came across a comic of the Talespin characters where Rebecca seduced Kit. I felt surprisingly connected to Kit in that comic and still remember it clearly. However, due to both the nature of slow speeds and my own technical inexperience in understanding binary files, I primarily gravitated toward stories. The first story that really grabbed my interest was the tale of a ninth grader who is seduced by his friend's mother. I am ashamed to say that while I thought of myself as a bright and literary youth, I failed to see the clear and obvious reason why this story attracted me so. Minus the explicit sex, the thing was a very close approximation of what I was experiencing at that very moment in real life. The mother of a friend I had met in seventh grade had taken me as a confidant and companion. Invariably when I would come to my friend's house, sooner or later she would steal me away for some contrived favor and then we would spend the next hour or two sitting alone as she poured out her heart to me. I learned the intimate details of her life. Her husband and her were not happy in bed because he would not be dominant enough with her. He was, in her view, a weak man who had failed to protect their now six year old child -- who had been sexually assaulted two years previously in their own back yard by a neighbor boy. The boy in question was my own age (so sixth grade at the time of the assault, 8th or 9th grade when I learned about it) and while I did not know him well, did occassionally see him at school. No charges had been filed and the entire situation had been mostly hushed over, which the mother was ambivalent about. She shared how the event had destroyed her husband's interest in sex and told me -- in detail -- of the various physical and roleplaying practices she had employed to try to arouse him.
I was her friend, her therapist, her confessor. The person she looked forward to seeing and the one she unburdened herself too. I was, in retrospect, practically her boyfriend. Our relationship was never physical except for lingering hugs she would give me and one time -- one time only -- when I was sleeping over with her son she came into the room and gave us both kisses goodnight. She kissed her own son on the cheek. To me (I was fifteen), she touched my cheek and looked straight in my eyes and kissed me briefly but intenselv on mouth. We never spoke of it.
Ironically, it was that kiss that was the most dissimilar to my previous relationships with grown women. Not just the nature of the kiss, but any physical intimacy at all. I was so good at being her friend and companion because my own mother had raised me to be hers. I was my mother's emotional support and hearer of all her secrets. The only difference was that my own mother loathed touching me in any way.
As often happens, it was only many years later that I recognized the emotional grooming and seduction that both of these women employed on me. Both relationships were as intimate and boundary-less as any romantic interaction and while not physically sexual, was intensely sexual in the confessions and topics they both chose to share with me. At the time, I felt honored and proud of my ability to be such a stalwart emotional support.
I apologize that this has become less about the internet and more about my teenage years, but this story does demonstrate how internet porn connects with real world experiences. For me, not as a matter of porn destroying my respect for women or anything like that, but rather that visual and written media give the audience a context and a language to contextualize their own experiences. for me, the art and stories I found were the first step in me in building my own conversation about what had happened to me. Would it have been even better if an enlightened adult had been able to hear my secrets. Yes, absolutely. But that was not going to happen.