Nicht lieferbar
Warning: This is a vintage hard-boiled full length, post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even hive a proper description. Check out the free sample if you can.
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There was more than one reason why Carolyn did not report the criminal assault to either the police or her employer. In the first place, she had invested a great deal of time and money in becoming the city's first female el operator, and knew that the incident would be used only as a pretext to discriminate against her and other women.
Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, Carolyn was quite disturbed about her own reaction to the incident. In her active mind, she could easily imagine a police interrogation scene where she would be asked such questions as whether she had enjoyed it and whether she had had a climax. And she couldn't trust herself to successfully lie about what had happened.
And there was no doubt that she had truly enjoyed the rough, degrading and perverse assault. That disturbed her the most. The notion that she might respond to that type of mistreatment had never even occurred to her in the past, and meant that she didn't really know as much about herself as she thought. At times she found herself reminiscing rather warmly about what had happened, and sometimes wondered if in some manner she might arrange a repetition of the experience. However, such thoughts made her feel guilty and irritated with herself, and she had no real intention of putting such idle daydreams into practice.
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There was more than one reason why Carolyn did not report the criminal assault to either the police or her employer. In the first place, she had invested a great deal of time and money in becoming the city's first female el operator, and knew that the incident would be used only as a pretext to discriminate against her and other women.
Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, Carolyn was quite disturbed about her own reaction to the incident. In her active mind, she could easily imagine a police interrogation scene where she would be asked such questions as whether she had enjoyed it and whether she had had a climax. And she couldn't trust herself to successfully lie about what had happened.
And there was no doubt that she had truly enjoyed the rough, degrading and perverse assault. That disturbed her the most. The notion that she might respond to that type of mistreatment had never even occurred to her in the past, and meant that she didn't really know as much about herself as she thought. At times she found herself reminiscing rather warmly about what had happened, and sometimes wondered if in some manner she might arrange a repetition of the experience. However, such thoughts made her feel guilty and irritated with herself, and she had no real intention of putting such idle daydreams into practice.