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I’ve been doing some reading
I’ve been doing some reading, as usual… and came across this essay:
“What’s a nice girl like you?” was the usual reaction of men to my becoming a feminist as well as my becoming a prostitute. The difference for me was I chose to be a feminist, but I decided to work as a prostitute after being labeled officially by a misogynist judge in San Francisco at age twenty-five. It was 1962. I said in court, “Your honor, I never turned a trick in my life!” he responded, “Anyone who knows the language is obviously a professional.” My crime was I knew too much to be nice girl.
…
Books From My Youth

Female Sexual Slavery, by Kathleen Barry, originally published in 1979.
I read this book when I was 12. The title was too hard to resist, I was afraid the cashier wouldn’t sell it to me, so I stole it.
The only 2 reviews on Amazon: (wheeeee! look, I learned that tables copy right over in visual mode – I’s so smart~)
You Touch Me, I’ll Touch You
Oh well, I submitted this one to feministing community section, and it wasn’t approved. Maybe it was too slutty?
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I was very sexual. My earliest memory is from when I was about 4, sharing the bed with my female cousin, and we were exploring our ‘pee-pees’, touching each others – and my dad walked into the room and fussed at us to go to sleep, “y’all quit that, go to sleep!” I know he could tell we were exploring, I could tell he didn’t quite know what to say. I know he just wanted us to go to sleep already, the way all parents just want the kids to go to sleep already.
My next notable memory was when I was 7 or so, and I was telling a friend from down the street that I masturbate – of course I didn’t put it that way – I think we were talking about stuff we “loved” that felt good, like sneezing or spinning in circles, and I said something about rubbing myself on a pillow. She asked what I meant, and when I explained, she told me that what I was doing was bad and I wasn’t supposed to do it. I asked “Why, who says?” - “It just is. You just aren’t.” she said. I vaguely remember that she said the bible said not to, and I vaguely remember thinking “what do bibles have to do with anything?” – I told her she should try it anyway, ’cause it feels amazing. She told me to go home, and then I wasn’t allowed to play with her anymore.


