Before the Internet

[MrStockings]

It was the porn-fairy for me, never had the courage to go and buy some for myself - I looked under 18 until I was well into my 20's. However, the porn fairy used to leave loads of mags in various fields, hedges and laybys that were a short cycle away. I had a great collection of slightly damp-spolied Whitehouse, Park Lane, Lovebirds, New Direction etc etc. Through them I discovered a very deep love of stockings and suspenders

[Kevlar92]

Originally Posted by daves69

Thank you LoinRanger, I know just what you mean. Does anyone remember the Janus bookshop in London years ago? And the booths at the back showing spanking films?

Janus shop was in Old Compton Street, only closed about 3 years ago. Spankrama was the cinema. Before that there were 10p peep show films that were about 2 min in length.

[Jenkinson]

Originally Posted by LoinRanger

Back then if you were into swinging etc. or have a certain 'weird' fetish, it was hard. Alot of leg work etc. what I miss most are the oldschool porn shops - poor lighting, dirty floors ( sic ) and just the feeling of being happy with follow perverts - there a bond - which doesn't happen much now.

Well, this wonderful website itself provides us avid porn-lovers with a certain sense of fellowship, I think, but I do understand what LoinRanger is getting at. The sheer sleaziness of old-style sex-shops did excite me sometimes, on those occasions when I was enjoying the 'naughtiness' of playing the 'dirty old man'. (I know this sounds a bit ridiculous, but it is frankly how I felt at the time when, in reality, I was still an inexperienced young man). There was something so excitingly desperate about it all.

In the late 1980s and 1990s, while still relying on the newsagent's topshelf to some extent, I was making fairly regular porn-buying expeditions to Soho every two or three months to get access to a wider range of magazines and acquire the spanking porn that has always been my particular need. Private Shops in the provinces often claimed to be cheaper than Soho, but that was far from the truth. Even taking transport costs into account, it made sense to go to London.

Leaving the coach at Marble Arch around noon, I'd walk long Oxford Street, turn right into Berwick Street, pass through the market, and plunge into the concentration of sex-shops that was Walkers Court (still the porniest part of Soho today, but for how much longer?). It was usually my ambition to look into practically every sex-shop in the district (except for a few known to be totally useless) in a search for the best material to suit my tastes and (almost equally important) the best multi-purchase deals. The real price of porn has fallen considerably in the last twenty years. Back then, cover prices were often outrageous, especially for specialised mags. With so many tempting titles on view and only a limited budget, I would trawl through shop after shop, often buying nothing on the first visit of the day in case better buys were to be found elsewhere. It was also necessary to be ever alert for scams.

My shopping would we punctuated by two or three sessions at the Sunset Strip in Dean Street, which sold all-day tickets. Between 2 and 3 p.m., I'd catch the afternoon shift of strippers, then return around 5.30 p.m. to see the change-over to the evening rota at 6 p.m. The sight of a total of a dozen striptease girls and hundreds of porn magazine covers during the day naturally kept me perpetually semi-aroused!

Around 7.30 p.m., I'd go back to the shops with the best stuff and make my purchases. Given my kink, my last port of call would always be the Janus shop in Old Compton Street to spend all that remained of my planned budget (and usually a bit more) on CP mags. Sadly, the video booths had gone by the time I knew the shop, or they would have been another serious competitor for my cash. This was the golden era for spanking magazines, so there would always be a new Janus, Roue, Phoenix, or Blushes to collect on every trip. This meant that I could at least be sure of going home with something that would really satisfy me. The curse of cellophane bags in the other sex-shops made the buying of porn something of a lottery: you parted with your cash on the strength of an exciting cover or single exposed page, and only later did you discover whether the contents in any way lived up to it.

If there was time, I'd go back to the Sunset Strip for a last look at the girls' bottoms while I fantasised about spanking. A couple of the strippers did use a cane or crop in their acts occasionally, which always delighted me (though it would be better for them if these appeared earlier, as by this time I'd have nothing left for tips). The club closed at 11 p.m., and I'd walk back to Marble Arch, practically penniless but weighted down with carrier bags for the long journey home (and the surreptitious opening of the cellophane bags!).

As you will have gathered, I generally really enjoyed these trips, even the hard haggling with uncouth counter-minders. Soho these days has lost much of its buzz and sleaze, and for me the two were certainly connected. The sex-shops are now branches of just a few chains, so most have exactly the same stock. The girls at the Sunset Strip are usually not so much performing strip-tease as advertising themselves for expensive 'private dances'. The closure of the Janus shop three years ago means that my tour no longer has a fitting finale. These days, indeed, there is little to tempt the spanker in any sex-shop, as spanking porn has become almost a preserve of the internet, along with other minority interests, I suppose.

So yes, something has been lost. But even so, think how much has been gained! The VEF alone is a pornophile's paradise. Twenty years ago, I was literally dreaming of access to a 'stash' like this! The number of spanking films available over the net is absolutely fantastic. True, some of them are dull and formulaic, but I still enjoy the hunt for what turns me on, knowing that it's there to be found. Though the intensity of the porn-buying experience has diminished, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't welcome the ease and frequency of visits to the multitude of virtual sex-shops. On balance, these are great days for people like us!

[PJayBr]

My Porn Timeline :

My mate's dad's workshop (so many they never missed them); odd ones found in hotels I've worked (really strange stuff when a conference had Scandanavians in); the internet.

PJayBr

[donmega]

Internet didn't reach my house til High school, and thanks to older kids I discovered porn quite early. After seeing that the older kids parents had porn, me and friends searched our parents rooms to see if they had any. From that day on, I use to always sneak into parents room to go through their mags and then when I got brave enough and I knew I had enough time, I would watch their VHS porn collection. On top of that, I'd also get together with friends and we would enjoy our parents porn together at their house, my house or this little fort we made in the woods.

Around the same time "recycle bins" were starting to get put out and we of course would stumble across mags in bins which we would gather and keep at the fort. There was also this one friend who never came out as much, but said he had free access to his dads playboys. As in his dad didn't mind if we saw them, or if his son kept them. We always thought he was lucky.

By the beginning of high school, we all basically moved away and I finally had internet. I would still occasionally go for parents collection though.

[thunderfly]

An extremely funny and somewhat embarrassing thing happened to me in the late 1990s. Exploring the sex shops around London Soho's Walkers Court into Berwick Street I stumbled upon a sex shop tucked away and almost deliberately hidden behind the fruit and veg stalls. I quickly darted in only to find myself face to face with extremely strong gay porn magazines. 'Er, have you any straight stuff?' I asked the guy behind the counter. 'No mate, this is a gay sex shop' he replied. I shot out of there like a bat out of hell.

[Sir Honkers]

Never mind the lack of a cornucopia of porn, time was if you were stuck in a computer game you had to write (not email) to a gamer magazine for a solution and then wait a month for your letter to get published.

[daves69]

I used to live in England in the pre-internet days and even London's Soho was pretty tame. But the porn in Amsterdam, Hamburg and Paris was something else. And the video booths were more classy too, with some stunning films. I discovered Leda (femdom) films in Paris and dreamed of a female submissive equivalent. Then I discovered Nu West, oh happy day!

[rosestone]

Originally Posted by loosegoose

Never mind the lack of a cornucopia of porn, time was if you were stuck in a computer game you had to write (not email) to a gamer magazine for a solution and then wait a month for your letter to get published.

The old Sierra 'Quest' games had a dedicated phone line you could call, and I clearly remember my dad asking the guy if that was all he did, answer the phone and give someone the solution if they were stuck, and it was! Imagine having that as a job.

There was one game, Police Quest, where you had to stop a drunk driver, and administer a breathalyser. Being Brits, we hadn't the slightest clue what you called this in American-English, so after agonising for days and days, eventually we had to call the premium rate line. It's called a 'Field Sobriety Test', or just 'FST'. I can still remember that now, 25 years later.

[daves69]

Originally Posted by daves69

I discovered Leda (femdom) films in Paris and dreamed of a female submissive equivalent. Then I discovered Nu West, oh happy day!

Before the internet there was no way to find out about things like this, you just had to keep looking and get lucky. Now you just google it.