My name is Phil, and I'm an addict. For nearly eight years I have been gripped by my all-consuming porn addiction. This is my story.
It started when I was 13, still trying to work out what this new fangled Internet thing was. Fortunately it was the same for my dad, self-appointed supreme commander of the net connection. Like a schoolboy flicking through the dictionary, looking for rude words to laugh at, I'd thought I'd see what my new toy would come up with when I searched for these afore mentioned rude words. Figuring that AOL would naturally block this kind of thing, I thought I would get a stern warning on the screen, virtual slap on the wrist, and be sent on my way. How wrong I was.
Suddenly I was greeted with long strings of my favourite words, in what appeared to be no intelligible order! "Cockpussyfuckshitassgirlsteens FREE!!" it cried, as if it were from a Tourette's syndrome heaven. What else could I do but click? Like a moth to a UV bulb, my mouse pointer seemed to move on its own toward the link...
Alas, my euphoria was short lived, as I was treated to a game of kill the pop ups. As I was bombarded mercilessly by advert after advert, I managed to pick up several things I'd never heard of before, bukakke and wolf-bagging to name but two. With wide eyes I watched as the windows kept coming, offering dirtier and dirtier things, until I heard that key in the door. Realising that my mum must have come home, I began frantically closing all the windows as fast as I could... that race between my clicking finger and the footsteps up the stairs began. To my dismay the closing one window seemed to spawn several more, and panic began to set in. Those footsteps were getting closer to me and yet this sick filth was still adorning my screen!! Swearing under my breath as door handle began to turn, I cut the power, just as my mum walked it. Some accusing looks and what I thought was a calm and collected explanation of how the computer needed to be restarted later, and I was in the clear.
That day, some switch in my mind was thrown. All I could think about was the next time I could search for filth on the net. After discussing it with friends at school, I was informed of the horrors of the temporary Internet files and history folder, bringing me out in a cold sweat. I have never run home so fast.
Disaster averted, I began to plot my next move. The last foray into the Internet world of porn had revealed the path to be fraught with the danger of computer crashing pop-ups. Narrowing my search seemed to make a difference, adding the word "free" on any search string made it easier to find what I was looking for. After much effort I found my first image...
Now for a 13 year-old who has never seen anything more pornographic than page 3 of The Sun, to suddenly happen across a double penetration image is going to confuse. Naturally I was stunned that anyone would want to participate in something like this, let alone have it photographed... and yet there was something about it that stopped me deleting it.
This was the beginning of a downward (or upward depending on how you look at it) spiral. I happened across maxxsfree.com (don't know if it still exists or not), updated once a week, and became a fixture in my weekly routine. Once you find one free site, the rest come along like buses... www.libraryofthumbs.com , www.shemp.com, www.book-mark.net (ALL NSFW, heed my warning), to name but a few, the first one is still my starting point today, being updated everyday, and always containing quality.
I became over confident. I was invincible. No one had any idea. Or at least I thought. I had my special porn folder, hidden away in one of the deeper directories of the games installed (I believe it was Civilisation 2), no one except me knew of its existence. I'd even progressed to searching for it, when the house was full, covering my track by talking to my friends on AIM (if you're reading this Kat, I'm truly sorry, but you provided awesome cover).
But then it happened. What goes up must come down, the mighty will fall eventually, and you WILL get caught. To this day I don't know how it happened. I assume I was in such a rush to get rid of what was on the screen, I thought I'd clear the history folder later...clearly I forgot.
The first time is always the worst. Like the first time you dislocate your shoulder, it always takes longer to fix everything the first time. My dad had finally caught up to my level of proficiency with the computer, and found what he described as "disturbing images". I got that sinking feeling. You get the "we're not angry, we're just disappointed treatment". Nothing feels worse than that. I was banned from the computer, I had to explain to my friends why. Months later, when I was allowed back on, the parental controls had been put all the way up, preventing me from looking at anything more offensive than teletubbies.
But where there's a teenage boy's sex drive, there's a way. It didn't take long for me to find a way round, and soon we were back up and running. I got caught, again. Apparently using my mum's account was not the best plan. Banned again, but this time I was back within a week.
Soon I found myself bored by what I was seeing. I wanted harder, dirtier stuff. Still images and 10 second clips were not doing the trick anymore; I needed more. This was around the time I got my own Internet connection, and I joined my first pay site. After much in depth research and many $3.95 3 day trials, I settled on the above website, in all its awesome nakedness. And then the problems started. Once I'd signed up to this I wanted more so I signed up to another, second on my list of choices. Suddenly I was overwhelmed by the amount of porn available to me, I almost didn't know where to begin. Whole days began disappearing to downloads, eating got pushed back until I downloaded my latest stuff videos. New internet connections were decided upon based on how fast it would get the porn, from the net, to my screen. Vast amounts of toilet roll disappeared. When I discovered that I was going to have no internet connection for a year, that wasn't at work, I was distraught. Searching for my next hit, and living of scraps of old stuff, I'd make trips home to steal even a few minutes of download time.
And thus we arrive at today, my admission of addiction. It's the first step to cure right? I don't want to be cured, its not as if my life is ruined... yet. At least now I know that if want to be cured, I've got the whole admission thing out of the way.
It started when I was 13, still trying to work out what this new fangled Internet thing was. Fortunately it was the same for my dad, self-appointed supreme commander of the net connection. Like a schoolboy flicking through the dictionary, looking for rude words to laugh at, I'd thought I'd see what my new toy would come up with when I searched for these afore mentioned rude words. Figuring that AOL would naturally block this kind of thing, I thought I would get a stern warning on the screen, virtual slap on the wrist, and be sent on my way. How wrong I was.
Suddenly I was greeted with long strings of my favourite words, in what appeared to be no intelligible order! "Cockpussyfuckshitassgirlsteens FREE!!" it cried, as if it were from a Tourette's syndrome heaven. What else could I do but click? Like a moth to a UV bulb, my mouse pointer seemed to move on its own toward the link...
Alas, my euphoria was short lived, as I was treated to a game of kill the pop ups. As I was bombarded mercilessly by advert after advert, I managed to pick up several things I'd never heard of before, bukakke and wolf-bagging to name but two. With wide eyes I watched as the windows kept coming, offering dirtier and dirtier things, until I heard that key in the door. Realising that my mum must have come home, I began frantically closing all the windows as fast as I could... that race between my clicking finger and the footsteps up the stairs began. To my dismay the closing one window seemed to spawn several more, and panic began to set in. Those footsteps were getting closer to me and yet this sick filth was still adorning my screen!! Swearing under my breath as door handle began to turn, I cut the power, just as my mum walked it. Some accusing looks and what I thought was a calm and collected explanation of how the computer needed to be restarted later, and I was in the clear.
That day, some switch in my mind was thrown. All I could think about was the next time I could search for filth on the net. After discussing it with friends at school, I was informed of the horrors of the temporary Internet files and history folder, bringing me out in a cold sweat. I have never run home so fast.
Disaster averted, I began to plot my next move. The last foray into the Internet world of porn had revealed the path to be fraught with the danger of computer crashing pop-ups. Narrowing my search seemed to make a difference, adding the word "free" on any search string made it easier to find what I was looking for. After much effort I found my first image...
Now for a 13 year-old who has never seen anything more pornographic than page 3 of The Sun, to suddenly happen across a double penetration image is going to confuse. Naturally I was stunned that anyone would want to participate in something like this, let alone have it photographed... and yet there was something about it that stopped me deleting it.
This was the beginning of a downward (or upward depending on how you look at it) spiral. I happened across maxxsfree.com (don't know if it still exists or not), updated once a week, and became a fixture in my weekly routine. Once you find one free site, the rest come along like buses... www.libraryofthumbs.com , www.shemp.com, www.book-mark.net (ALL NSFW, heed my warning), to name but a few, the first one is still my starting point today, being updated everyday, and always containing quality.
I became over confident. I was invincible. No one had any idea. Or at least I thought. I had my special porn folder, hidden away in one of the deeper directories of the games installed (I believe it was Civilisation 2), no one except me knew of its existence. I'd even progressed to searching for it, when the house was full, covering my track by talking to my friends on AIM (if you're reading this Kat, I'm truly sorry, but you provided awesome cover).
But then it happened. What goes up must come down, the mighty will fall eventually, and you WILL get caught. To this day I don't know how it happened. I assume I was in such a rush to get rid of what was on the screen, I thought I'd clear the history folder later...clearly I forgot.
The first time is always the worst. Like the first time you dislocate your shoulder, it always takes longer to fix everything the first time. My dad had finally caught up to my level of proficiency with the computer, and found what he described as "disturbing images". I got that sinking feeling. You get the "we're not angry, we're just disappointed treatment". Nothing feels worse than that. I was banned from the computer, I had to explain to my friends why. Months later, when I was allowed back on, the parental controls had been put all the way up, preventing me from looking at anything more offensive than teletubbies.
But where there's a teenage boy's sex drive, there's a way. It didn't take long for me to find a way round, and soon we were back up and running. I got caught, again. Apparently using my mum's account was not the best plan. Banned again, but this time I was back within a week.
Soon I found myself bored by what I was seeing. I wanted harder, dirtier stuff. Still images and 10 second clips were not doing the trick anymore; I needed more. This was around the time I got my own Internet connection, and I joined my first pay site. After much in depth research and many $3.95 3 day trials, I settled on the above website, in all its awesome nakedness. And then the problems started. Once I'd signed up to this I wanted more so I signed up to another, second on my list of choices. Suddenly I was overwhelmed by the amount of porn available to me, I almost didn't know where to begin. Whole days began disappearing to downloads, eating got pushed back until I downloaded my latest stuff videos. New internet connections were decided upon based on how fast it would get the porn, from the net, to my screen. Vast amounts of toilet roll disappeared. When I discovered that I was going to have no internet connection for a year, that wasn't at work, I was distraught. Searching for my next hit, and living of scraps of old stuff, I'd make trips home to steal even a few minutes of download time.
And thus we arrive at today, my admission of addiction. It's the first step to cure right? I don't want to be cured, its not as if my life is ruined... yet. At least now I know that if want to be cured, I've got the whole admission thing out of the way.
