Captive’s Log – totaladdict
Re: Captive’s Log – totaladdict Post by totaladdict » Sat Mar 15, 2025 6:35 am
I love retelling old stories of my path toward pornosexuality.
I was always sexually curious, learning about the basic concepts as soon as I learned how to ask questions and to read on my own. At the latest by kindergarten. By six or seven I had figured it out and knew it was something I like learning about, and wanted to know about. I was insatiably curious about bodies, and it grew. I loved standing idle, face level with the lewd covers on the magazines that lined the checkout lineup. I was too young to really get scolded for looking so obviously, but also, my mother would sometimes guide me away when I focused in on a large photo of a woman in a bikini or a fashion magazine with a lot of cleavage showing.
That love led to some penis manipulation, but with no purpose, when nobody was looking. In private or when nobody was looking in public. Nobody would have said anything at that age anyways. Purpose came when I discovered a discarded set of porn magazines by a secluded part of a river, in a downtown core area. So simultaneously concealed but somewhat vulnerable. Given I am along a river bank with high and thick undergrowth lining it, concealing the prize and myself somewhat, set beside a public park, with a busy bridge just downstream. At first sight, I was taken by surprise. Shocked. Somehow mortified to be seeing it. I knew it was so bad to be even looking. I was a good Christian boy and knew the rules about purity, sexual immorality, all of the basic fundamentalist doctrines around sins of the flesh. Despite my doctrinaire upbringing, my lust instantly won–it wasn’t even a contest–I as walking toward it as soon as my eyes glanced its way. It looked like what I had been hoping for. Like the Sears magazines with the underwear off. Or the National Geographic women, but posing sexy. I felt my heart hammer, vision getting dim and narrowing as I almost passed out from lust, and I still remember the feeling in my cock. Instantly stiffening. The connection between the urge to masturbate and porn was cemented them. My hand was feeling how hard my cock had suddenly gotten in about ten seconds after getting a clear view as I strode toward it–rock fucking hard. As hard as it got. Immense guilt; waves of pure guilt and shame. My face must have been bright red, a deep dark red of utter shame. I was consumed by lust and knew this was everything I wanted, so my sin was so magnified. The lust, throbbing in my hand, hammering in my chest, clouding my vision, making me pant like an animal in muffled open mouthed fish gasps. I had to keep quiet. I could hear my blood pounding in my own hears, my heart audibly making my breath noise time with its beat. Forceful, massive flush of sex hormones for the first time, felt in full force. Maximum lust and fantasy fulfillment, all in private but public. I think my covert exhibitionism streak may come from this moment as well, come to think.
I spent a half hour fingering my cock through my pants between the bushes, then tenderly transported the lot to underneath the bridge between some structures that hide me from anyone unless they were right in front of the spot I was hiding. Well away from the usual walking path–the trail ended before the bridge with a little chain. An still warm estuary was all that was on the other side of the bridge. Hiding in the open, really, but with plenty of time to hear someone coming and hide the pornography under my shirt or something, or just walk away. I sat under the bridge for another hour and half to two and half hours.
Accidentally discovered edging as I was playing, then the jerking motion itself once I got brave enough to whip out my cock in public and masturbate. I edged and edged, not knowing what could come next. So I’d turn a water logged page, wrecking the last to expose the next, then edge to each page. Repeat. I managed to save some strips into an array spread out around me on the concrete. 360 degrees of porn. My first porn shrine at eight. I eventually had a dry orgasm when I just didn’t stop at the good feeling with my hand, this time.
I remember arching with my shoulder and head against the sloped concrete containment structure, feet on the flat part, pants around my ankles, jackign off as fast as I could to see what could happen if i didn’t stop. The onrush of feelings and surprise and feel-good hormones all at once was so much. I know I was trying to keep quiet as I could, but I know I made some guttural noises and at least some higher pitched cries. I am almost certain nobody could have heard me, or even if they did, it could have come from anywhere and be anything. Nobody would think for a second that what they heard is what just happened–their mind would form some other image. I came so hard. My first dry orgasm.
From then on I understood masturbation, edging, and how porn triggered my desire. I would jerk off to the memory of those pages, some still in my memory to this day, even the text that served as captions–pretend quotes. I remember one word for word and her image, “No man who sees me can resist me.” I had two other magazines open at ether side to that one from my score, but that one stayed open because she had massive natural breasts and a huge hairy bush, legs slightly open so her large clitoris and labia were visible (large thick hood that extended from the clitoris head to her cunt hole hidden inside all that hair), and nice treasure trail ending just before her belly button. Truly hairy, even down her inner thighs. The hair around her pussy hole was matted from something wet, something I didn’t know to identify as pussy juice yet, but it pushed down her true hirsute potential there and made her clit stand out more. Her clit must have been larger, much larger than average, because it poked past even the densely packed pussy hair (above, the dry hair, pushed out about two inches in thick curls and tangles). I would guess that her clit was a 3/4 inches long. I wonder now if that was aroused or pre-arousal. I didn’t quite have the language skills to understand “her” words, but as I paged through the other magazines, I pieced together what it meant, and I remember that making me so hard. Hard when I realized that she was taking about how her body made a man’s cock hard and shoot sperm out (I had passed pics like that, many, by then). I remember jerking off and humping harder than usual realizing that I was turned on by being uncontrollably lustful for her body–and that she was showing it to me to make me feel this way.
Porn really got me going with masturbation and edging. I would consider them one and the same thing. If I can’t have porn, I masturbate to past sexual partners, fantasies, and porn I have watched looping in my head. As soon as I get the chance, I add porn back into my masturbation again.
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