Bookshelves

23 Nov

Radfem Repost

I still remember the books in the hallway. Bookshelves everywhere. And the porn.

It shouldn’t have been there, but it was. Left lurking, and teasing. Forbidden fruits, in the grasp of my child’s hand.

I remember a vague sense of what was forbidden. But there it all was, and I was left alone at times. And I read, I read everything I could get my hands on.

There was the book about the sex slave, on a high shelf at the end of the hall. And there was the little cheap paperback about people having sex with electrodes clamped upon their nipples, on the low shelf in the middle.

Playboy Magazine was light fare, compared to the hallway. Those piled up, I collected them. I read the cartoons. Neighborhood children arrived regularly to examine them, I had no idea why.

These women in the photographs and cartoons were clearly not…

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