Episode 2 :
Growing in years, as I ventured out further from the home each day and stayed out longer, I became more feral. I started finding these magical magazines pretty much everywhere and quickly started habitually scavenging for them. In bins, forests, all over the train yard but most reliably in portacabins, which in that different time were rarely locked. I learned that each new year would mean factory skips overflowing with last years calendars which for some reason all had naked women on them. I started learning to spot patterns in the appearance of newspapers and magazines in bins, particularly out the back of shops and businesses. This inadvertently introduced me to the monthly periodical and this lead to a blossoming of discovered magazines as each new issue emerged. Understanding their episodic nature, I was now able to invest time in collecting volumes of magazines. eskort was the first magazine which had me decide that I would collect every one, somehow travelling back in time to get previous issues if necessary!
These gifts I later recognised as those that are attributed to The Porn Fairy. The mythical Goddess who travels the lands sprinkling porn to those deserving souls who cannot yet reach that shelf upon which the magazines are born. She seeks out the needy, the devout and the just plain lucky and with a wave of her magic dildo she places in our paths our fitting rewards. But careful, she is also a trickster! Sometimes, you can climb a lot of walls only to find that page flicking in the wind was just an Argos catalogue!

I came to value nothing but the discovery of more paper porn. I had friends, I had toys, I was bullied, I bullied, I played games, I rode my bike, but I would absolutely drop everything at no notice at all to recover the tiniest fragment of porn from a tree, or storm drain or to break into any building that I instinctively knew contained the girly magazines. Factory outbuildings, building sites, trains, it was as obvious to me how to locate porn mags as it would be to anybody else as to locate the nearest bus stop. I was good at finding porn, my skill at this was surpassed only by my determination to ignore everything else in pursuit of it. While all my mates were all off doing whatever with Mary Jane Rottencrotch behind the bike sheds I was out fringling(tm) for porn. On reflection I recognise now that I was dead right with my life plan because in reality her name was Claire and she really was crap compared to porn magazines so I didn’t bother with her twice, the porn was way better.

Things got much better in adolesence, they say those early years are the best of your life but I wouldn’t trade back, not a chance. I was now generously flush with porn mags and quite envied for it. I had far more than anybody else, stashed in places nobody else could hope to locate. I was a dark ninja, a porn sleuth, I could find porn, hide, hide it, and recover it, at will, nobody could match my skills. In latter years I thought I would write a guide book on acquiring and retaining that which one was not permitted to own and make a fortune, but yeah, the internet happened and ruined that idea entirely. Anyway what happened was that along with having an engorged library was that I became increasingly careless with the magazines I was carrying. The idea of losing some wasn’t quite as frightening any longer, I had plenty of repeats also and I figured I was bulletproof. Friends at school finally fucked it all up and got me busted with one of them. No male teacher would touch it with a barge pole (#ThankEstherRantzen) so I was tossed to the brutal mercies of one of the female teachers who seemed to have taken it upon herself that she was going to make me feel as bad, low and worthless as possible. (#Feminism)

I’d been ear dragged to some unfamiliar room and she was holding up the magazine and yelling at me and I wasn’t really listening, I was concerned at the pages that were being ragdolled around. As the treatment got worse I started making last minute mental notes of the magazine suffering here. Clearly I wasn’t getting this magazine back and even if I did it was going to be in a sorely degraded condition. I needed to know what might need replacing. Noticing that I was more interested in the magazine than her tirade, her attention turned as well to the magazine. Her face shifted from disappointed to really quite angry. She forgot herself and started showing me the contents of the magazine almost yelling about how this sort of thing is completely unacceptable or whatever. I was struck, unable to comprehend any of this. Her voice was like it was an echo, or a memory, it didn’t matter, there was this lady, I dunno, maybe thirty, slim, I supposed she could have been quite attractive, nothing too pretty as to make her seem unobtainable, jesus just like any of the sights one might see in Fiesta magazine, but she was here and she was showing me the contents of a porn magazine. Sure she was berating me but that didn’t matter. I was just so surprised and pleased to have a woman going through a porn magazine with me and pointing at naked cunts asking why I thought this was something to value or own. I had no words for her, I stammered and made awkward sounds and she carried on going through the pages pointing at even more pussy, more tits. She turned another page, there was two girls one sucked hard on the nipples of the other. She quickly turned another page and it just got worse as a finger was seen holding open a pussy. Trying a third time she skipped some pages and now one of the ladies was lapping her tongue so close to that pussy even I could almost taste it.

She lost her composure even more than before and demanded to know what I was thinking having pictures like this. I don’t remember what I said. I know what I wanted to say, something about wanting to see her in the picture, but I doubt I said that. Whatever it was that I said though pushed her over an edge. She started clawing at the pages tearing them, I protested in some way and she just tore more and faster. There were more words, probably threats to call my mother or something, but it didn’t matter. I was trying to think up ways to replace the magazine, but my mind wouldn’t consider it. I got confused, normally nothing displaces acquiring porn from my forethought, but right now it wasn’t working.

My mouth was making noises, tits and pussies were dropping to the floor all ripped and scrunched up. Seeing my precious like that was too much. My dick was diamonds. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and I started taking it all in, watching each page in her cruel grasp to see a glimpse of pussy being shredded right across the crack, or bullseye right across a nipple. What the fuck? Why was watching this woman shredding my porn doing this to me? I could not believe that this could possibly do anything but make me cry. But I was far from crying I was desperately trying to hold in my excitment.

I’d only really recently begun actually ejaculating and had yet to embrace this as a positive thing. But right now I was nervous that this impending ejaculation was going to be some sort of new personal best. So I was aware I should be at least in part be considering how to hold that in, sure I wanted to enjoy this moment to its conclusion but I didn’t want her to see just how much I was enjoying all of this.

Sadly, this was a million miles and an eternity beyond me. She said something mean about one of the girls in the magazine, nothing seedy, but it was plenty more than enough. Unable to hold on, I came and did my best to hide what had happened. She continued on ranting for what seemed like an hour, but was no more than a minute or two. Maybe she saw my mood and attitude had shifted and figured she had won. Her frenzy subsided and she put the shreds into the waste bin.

She made it clear that if I was caught with anything like that again, the exact same treatment should be expected. I did very well to hide my smile, I knew what was going to happen tomorrow.

Things I omitted from my autobiography. Episode 2.

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