Finding The Parents' Stash

Secondhand Rose recalls her first exposure to adult magazines:

I must have been about 10 years old or so when I found my parents stash of porn. My sister and I were home alone, playing hide-and-seek in the house. I went to hide in the one space I knew she'd never find me -- the one space I'd also be afraid to seek in for fear of a person jumping out at me -- our crawlspace.

...After a few heart-pounding minutes in the arid space, I turned on the light (which could never shine through to the other side as the door fit tightly and it was daytime anyway) and looked for something to occupy myself. I poked in the box closest to the door. That's where I found the then-current porn magazines.

I flipped through them, saw all the photos. Mostly women with their come-hither stares, big and wild hair (both on their heads and covering their genitals), and glossy lips. I didn't feel much of anything at first. Certainly not uncomfortable, for I continued to flip through the pages of first one magazine, then another and another. Until I hit an illustration.

I think it was an advertisement for a bondage swing, but I can't really recall... This paper-white woman with ink-black hair was set against a vivid purple square. Her fascinating red lips were pursed around a ridiculously large black circle, its black lines drawn against that white-white skin, holding the ball in place in her mouth. Her body was also bound in the leather strips, providing more black lines against white skin -- lines to read between. This woman was bound, apparently suspended from what I could only imagine was a ceiling painted as grape as the walls, and naked she sat, or swung, on display in a position similar to my sit-squat against the wall. Splayed. Bound. Gagged.

Instead of being disgusted, or even confused, I was mesmerized.

Photo via Flickr.