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Table of contents
PREFACE
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-1.1
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-1.2
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-2.1
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-2.2
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-2.3
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-2.4
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-2.5
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-3.1
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-3.2
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-3.3
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-3.4
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-3.5
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-4.1
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-4.2
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-4.3
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-5.1
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-5.2
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-5.3
EROTIC SYMBOLISM-6
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-1.1
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-1.2
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-1.3
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-1.4
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-2.1
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-2.2
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-2.3
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-2.4
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-3.1
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-3.2
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-4.1
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-4.2
THE MECHANISM OF DETUMESCENCE-4.3
THE PSYCHIC STATE IN PREGNANCY-1
THE PSYCHIC STATE IN PREGNANCY-2
THE PSYCHIC STATE IN PREGNANCY-3
THE PSYCHIC STATE IN PREGNANCY-4
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-1.1
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-1.2
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-2.1
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-2.2
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-3-4
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-5.1
HISTORIES OF SEXUAL DEVELOPMENT HISTORY-5.2
INDEX OF AUTHORS

beautiful home over Sunday while his parents were away was one 

long delight. We slept in each other's arms, but there was no 

sexuality. En route to C.'s home he pointed with a glove to a 

little working-girl, saying he would like to have intercourse 

with her, but this was the only remark of the kind that ever 

passed his lips in my presence. When undressed save for his 

undershirt, he laughingly held his unerect organ in his hand and 

made the motions of obtaining conjunction with an imaginary 

partner. Once we spoke of masturbation (I could recite the 

information of my good physician with a marvelous show of 

virtue), and C. remarked: "Yes, doing that makes boys crazy." C. 

finally grew tired of my deceptive, babyish nature and 

ultra-interest in books and puzzles, but I cherished an 

undiminished affection for him, and when he was detained at home 

for a fortnight with a broken arm, I wrote him a passionate 

letter, which I sobbed over and actually wetted with my tears. 

But the fervor of my passion died at the close of the year. I 

consider this unsullied friendship to be the only redeeming 

feature of my sensual days at school. 

 

Versed as I was in the warnings against masturbation, I found 

pleasure one afternoon when I was alone in slipping my penis 

through the open handle of a pair of scissors and in violently 

flapping my partially erect organ until a strange, sweet thrill 

crept over me from top to toe and a drop of clear liquid oozed 

from my member. But I gave up the manipulation with scissors, 

finding a greater satisfaction in masturbating while I was 

defecating or just after it. I either pumped my organ by slipping 

the prepuce back and forth, or I grasped the organ at its root 

and violently jerked it back and forth. I soon began to 

masturbate not only every time that I defecated, but also at 

night just before I went to sleep, and sometimes early in the 

morning. On the whole I preferred the jerking just described. I 

always brought about ejaculation after perhaps five minutes of 

violent exertion. 

 

My penis became chafed at the root, but I did not especially 

care. I remember the afternoon that I masturbated for the first 

time while I was defecating in the school water-closet. I cannot 

recall that at first I thought of coitus while I masturbated. On 

one occasion I masturbated over the _vase de nuit_ after a 

delightful afternoon of tobogganing exploration up and down the 

mountain. 

 

During this first year of abuse, I felt no ill effects 

whatsoever, although I realized, in an unthinking way, that I was 

doing wrong. But sexuality had assumed the proportion of a 

regular feature of our school life. It was difficult for me to 

place a "universal" view in its true perspective. I used to smile 

at the glazed, dull morning eye of poor H., who was a stunted boy 

of 15, and thus could not endure his losses so well as I could 

endure them. The qualms of conscience which I suffered were lost 

in my delight in my dawning sexual life. Sometimes I lay on my 

stomach in bed, and by placing my hand under my scrotum, 


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