A frank discussion with kinky friends recently concerned our early porn-reading days as teenagers. How I enjoyed some of those long summer holidays from school – parents safely out of the way, pocket money in hand and the local newsagent’s top shelf just in reach!

It did seem that I had a rather unusual approach to my porn-reading, though. You see, browsing naughty magazines for me involved the use of a red pen. Pictures of delectable backsides soon became adorned with hand-drawn stripes, as I pictured the canings and whippings that the scantily-clad (nay, often completely unclad) young ladies would have received. “Readers’ Wives” became “Spanked Readers’ Wives”; “Penthouse” transmuted into “Jailhouse” and “Men Only” (a particular favourite) metamorphosed into “Strict Men Only”.

And that was before I’d realised that I was kinky, or even what “kinky” was.

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