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The next morning I woke up early in Sarah's warm, heavy arms. Restlessly, I thought about us, about Ed, about the future. It was so frightening, and yet it was actually possible to visualise a future with Sarah, if we could just wait until she left school. I would plan a trip for us, a big, big trip to the places whose names haunted my atlas. Marrakesh, Nepal, Kashmir, Ceylon ... Sarah would have a gap year to last a lifetime. Wouldn't it seem entirely natural for two young women to go travelling together, for security and companionship? Maybe we would never return, or not until lesbians were treated like normal people. Was there anywhere we could go where life was like that? Berlin ... or Paris ... America. New York, Los Angeles, perhaps San Francisco, if the rumours were right...

I knew was going to have to break it off with Ed, and tell him something close enough to the truth for him to believe while protecting Sarah. I would have to invent a new lover, or a crisis, or ... I realised that I would genuinely miss him. He had opened my eyes to many things, given me a musical education, an appetite for adventurous sex, and despite his typical male chauvinism, he'd always been a pretty considerate lover. The problem was that even though I was very fond of him, and I hated what I would have to do to a man who had given me many good times, I now knew that I didn't really love him, not like I loved Sarah, with every cell of my being.

Just thinking of her obliquely led my hand to stray down to my sex. I parted my legs a little, and toyed with the curls, a tingle of tenderness and the first hint of arousal teasing my nerves. Thinking of Ed with warmth and regret, I remembered again the drugs in the inner pocket of my suitcase. I thought of Ed and I, stoned, fucking crazily, or languorously ... I thought of the Mandrax, and how easily and pleasurably Ed buggered me when I took half a Mandy beforehand. I thought of Sarah's hand ... I stroked it as she slept, and imagined it squeezing into me...

And then, in the peace and calm of that morning, which was really the first chance I had had to reflect upon the vast and sudden changes to my life, I thought of something else very important that had been nudging rudely at the back of my mind since the first afternoon, and long before that too, in an unfocussed sort of way. When Sarah pinned me down, I had found the sensation of helplessness oddly and powerfully erotic. I thought back further, and found there was a pattern I had not pieced together before. When Ed grasped me roughly me and gored me deep in his lust, as he sometimes did, smacking my bottom hard as he took me from behind, or holding my arms or wrists tight to keep me from struggling, which I wasn't actually very likely to do because I liked it like that, it did hurt me, but at the same time - not, because that edge of pain was acting as another erotic spur. It now dawned on me that it was the sensation of helplessness and vulnerability before his overpowering strength that stimulated me most. There were other incidents too, minor but incremental that I now found followed the same pattern, where I sought pain or restriction of movement to achieve more pleasure.

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 24

After lock up we would talk for hours, telling each other everything. The screws never bothered Steve. There were agreements like that inside. Steve kept a lid on certain things for the screws, and they left her to do as she liked with her cellmates. Not that they didn't like to cop an eyeful through the peephole now and then. With Steve's guidance I quickly settled into the prison routine, and even got a job in the kitchens, thanks to her influence. She said that there was even a chance I...

The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 13

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 11

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 38

Carol had been our doctor since the Hall opened, and was used to human drama, but this was more than she'd ever had to cope with before. She rose to the occasion, took over with a professional tourniquet which let me rise from my bloody duties and see to Em, who had come round, but was as weak as a kitten, and couldn't stop crying. I helped her onto a chair by the back door, wrapped her in a blanket, and while Carol called the ambulance and the police, I yanked off my blood soaked t-shirt...

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 37

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 30

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The House In The Woods A Sexual HistoryChapter 34

We had only been home for a few weeks when Em came to me one evening as I sat studying for my finals. She had a strange, determined look on her face, and tears in her eyes. She'd been up and down since the holiday, happy one minute, morose the next. Morocco appeared to have done me much more good than it had her. I wondered whether I should wheedle the problem out of her. It was a matter of finding the right moment. Too soon and she'd clam up for longer, too long, and she could become...

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I felt someone shaking me gently, and I stirred, half awake already, and opened my eyes. Em was kneeling by the sofa, and her eyes really were alive again. "I've been watching you sleep. Come upstairs," she said, her voice firmer and more familiar than I had heard it since 1973. I swallowed. Something equally familiar went 'click' inside. My tummy flipped and I made a delicious surmise. Margaret stood, and held out her hand. Even as the bedroom door closed, Em's entire demeanour...

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We were now in the early 1970s. The psychedelic sixties had been left behind, but their fall-out would go on for some time. Ed was actually becoming a successful rock band manager in his own right, catching onto the buzz around David Bowie, finding that having a partner who was open to sexual experimentation was an extremely useful asset, and not being averse to jerking off the odd stoned rock star himself, as it transpired. After my first visits to Margaret I'd given in to my own urges and...

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