Are we shaped by our environment . . . ?
When I look back at my young life I can think of a series of events that triggered my life into kink and submission. As a young boy we would get a daily paper and as I got older, around the age of 10 or so I started to take an interest in flicking through the paper when I got home from school and was left to my own devices for an hour or so whilst my mother cooked the dinner. The reason I started to look through the paper was that some of the papers that my father bought had ladies baring their breasts inside. I liked those pictures but also knew I should not let anyone else know that I liked looking at them! Of course I know now that I was looking at The Sun newspaper's Page Three girls. For this young, impressionable boy, far from demeaning women in my mind those photographs made me exalt and adulate the female form, and perhaps the first stirrings of a sort of worship.
Quite by accident I also came across another source of opportunity to admire, adore and venerate ladies partially undressed. The Gratton catalogue was a firm fixture in our household, a way of buying everyday items on credit and getting them delivered direct to your home. It was big, heavy and had lots of glossy pages. My initial interest when younger was for the toy section at the back, me and my sibling would pick which toys we wanted, but rarely got, for Christmas. As I got older I took notice of the women's underwear section and the photographs of the models wearing the items for sale. For some reason I was particularly drawn to the images featuring corsets and girdles and the mature ladies that modeled those.
I have no idea why they attracted me more and I still don't to this day. I can still envision in my mind my favourite photograph . . . a curvy, full figured, dark haired mature lady wearing a girdle corset.
However, the single event that changed my life forever happened quite a while after I had been enjoying the activities described above. I was probably about 13 when I was browsing through a daily newspaper (I think it was the Express or Daily Mail) and came across a story with a large photo of a stout, well dressed lady brandishing a cat o' nine tails whilst standing in front of a large whipping frame. It was a story about Cynthia Payne or Madam Cyn as she became known in the British press. I was very intrigued by the photo, mainly because of her resemblance to my favoured lady in the Gratton catalogue but also by her holding a whip. I read the story and was breathless by the time I finished. Madame Cyn had slaves who served her and they were rewarded by being whipped by her! I kept that page from the newspaper for several years. I was never the same after I read that, I knew then that I wanted to be one of those slaves, and that I wanted to be beaten.
Thank you Madam Cyn.
Fantastic image that encapsulates all that I like from www.primmheels.com
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