I wonder now if I would have lost the thrill of masturbation eventually, once the novelty wore off, but I found new thrills. I masturbated every day, multiple times a day, until I was exhausted and sore. I became interested in S&M, casting call couches, bang buses. It didn’t matter if the stories I invented in my head were true.
I started staying up late, when Mom and Dad were snoring away in oblivion, to watch softcore porn on Cinemax. I didn’t know whether to hate her or love her, but I knew I needed her. My brother was three years older, and I’d wait for him to leave the house and then raid his stash, hidden in his bedside drawer under men’s fitness magazines and school notebooks. Later, when classmates at my all-girls Catholic high school were talking about MTV, YM magazine and PMS, I was educating myself on all sorts of other acronyms: DP, POV, ATM and more. Some of the videos had horrible acting bits that made me giggle. I hadn’t a clue what compelled these actresses to pursue this line of work.
With the advent of chat rooms on AOL, I supplemented porn with cybersex and sometimes managed to find clips and videos online, which took hours to download. Others were uncomfortably real, such as forlorn Thai hookers and mistake-making drunk party girls. I prayed the “teen” porn stars were 18 like the disclaimers promised. Whether I was in a relationship or not, my bond with porn never waned. What mattered is that I was getting off on their — real or imaginary — pain and subjugation.
I needed to have an empty house and no plans for the day for that kind of work. I was proud when I talked to boyfriends about my kink. Tuning in and rubbing one out always sounded like a good idea. It didn’t matter if I’d already had two or three orgasms that day. Then one day, I found myself clicking through gang bangs, but bored by the number of men I saw. I realized that in order for the videos to keep their charge, their intensity and their effectiveness, I needed them to induce shame in me.
Outside of social media chat functions like Facebook messenger, Instagram, Snapchat, Whats App, and BBM there are a number of teen chat rooms that are easily accessible through a simple Google search.
I didn’t know what I stumbled upon, only that it felt scary and wrong, but I tried not to care. Dredging through the book “Treasure Island” in seventh grade, I told myself I was allowed to masturbate to orgasm at the end of each chapter so I could finish by the due date.
No longer would I be crushed out on Eddie Vedder or Chris Cornell. There are 34 chapters in that book and, having made that deal, I breezed through them over the course of a few blissed out days.
Text messages can also be used to interact with automated systems, for example, to order products or services from e-commerce websites, or to participate in online contests.
Advertisers and service providers use direct text marketing to send messages to mobile phone users about promotions, payment due dates, and other notifications instead of using postal mail, email, or voicemail.