Case History 5

Subject: Georgianna D. Age: 15

INTERVIEW ONE

Georgianna was a young girl who was rather well-named in that she was a somewhat masculine person. Not in her psyche, mind you, but in her body-build. To look at her, with her thick, brown hair cut short and her flat, boyish body, one might well think she was male rather than female. And that, I'm afraid is what got poor, little Georgianna in the present position she started to relate.

At first she appeared to be a bit shy and was even truly reticent about revealing the degrading details of her subjugation and humiliation.

But with a kind encouraging word here and a warm, sympathetic smile she was able to divulge the following tale.

Well, Doctor, I guess my trouble started because I'm too much interested in sports.

This is supposed to be the day of women's liberation, but there's still a lot of prejudice about women doing things that only men are supposed to be doing, if you know what I mean.

My older sister, Yvonne, she's a student at the university, she talks about it all the time.

So I guess I know more about it then most girls my age.

It's what's called consciousness-raising. And my consciousness has already been raised.

Not only that but women doing what they want to do is more or less a tradition in my family.

We're originally from New England stock and women from that area are noted for their independence and stubbornness.

My mother, for example, played softball when she was a young woman.

She was the captain of the team.

And her team won a lot of state championships.

Once they even won the title for the entire northeast section of the country. They were national champions.

And my sister, Yvonne, is interested in athletics, too.

She's a runner. A long-distance runner.

So, as I was saying, it's only right, somehow, that I, too, should be interested in sports.

Of course, I'm a good student, too. That, too, is a part of the tradition in our family.

The girls and women in our family were always treated like equals with the men.

I don't know if that was because the men the women married were confident enough and secure enough in their own personalities to not feel threatened by women who wanted to achieve and had success in what they tried, or if the women just said to hell with it and went ahead and did what they wanted to do.

But for whatever the reason, that's how it is with us.

I'm not named Georgianna for nothing. That's why I came to you on my own accord.

I know most of the kids who come to see you come to you because someone is making them.

The school sends them or their parents make them come. But I'm not one of those kinds of people.

I'm here because I want to be. It's my idea that I should be here, not any one else's.

And I want to tell you right from the beginning that I don't think I'm sick or anything else.

I just need someone who is objective and trained to talk with.

And I know that, because of your professional standards and personal morals, you won't go repeating what I reveal to you.

Of course, if you want to use me as one of your case histories, that's all right with me.

Just don't use my last name, and everything will be just fine.

In fact, I sort of hope you do use my name because then maybe my story and history will help other young people facing the same sort of thing and maybe they'll have an easier time of it.

I don't "believe in unnecessary suffering.

I don't believe in experiencing pain unless it's absolutely necessary.

I believe in happiness and in working toward happiness as the one thing in life that's worth the most.

Nothing else interests me, not money, or career or whatever.

Of course, all those things are important, very important, but it doesn't seem to make sense to me to have money and success and, yes, maybe even fame if you aren't really happy.

So like I was saying, that's what I want ... happiness, and that's why I'm here.

But I guess I should get down to details or we'll be here forever and not get anywhere fast.

And I do want your opinions and ideas and advice on what's happening in my life.

Of course, I have to be completely honest and tell you that if what you eventually have to say doesn't make sense to me, real sense, I'm going to completely disregard what it is you suggest.

I don't believe in blindly following any one's advice except my own.

So if what you finally say makes sense, then I'll pay attention to it and act on your advice.

If what you have to say seems silly to me, or repressive, or somehow beside the point, then I'll simply have to disregard it.

What? Yes, Doctor, I'm only fifteen. Why do you ask?

Oh, because I seem old for my age? Well, I guess I do. I get that reaction a lot from people, from other kids my age and from adults, too.

They just don't expect a fifteen year old to have a brain as well-developed as mine, and it kind of shocks them and throws them off-guard when they first come across me.

But I don't let that worry me.

Or at least I try not to let it worry me.

Because if someone can't deal with the fact that, not only am I not an idiot, but that I am, as a matter-of-fact, totally and completely mature for my age ... well, that's their problem, not mine.

And one of my rules is that I do not accept the responsibility for the problems and hangups of others, be they older or younger than I am.

Everyone is basically responsible for themselves. Of course, we can all help each other, or at least try to.

But when you come right down to it, it's every man and woman and young person and child for him and herself!

I hope that doesn't shock you, Doctor.

I don't mean that to should harsh or cynical or cruel, but it is the truth, and anything else is just a lie or a cop-out!

And I don't believe in excuses for the things people do or don't do. Reasons, yes. Reasons I believe in and accept.

But excuses are just not acceptable.

When I say I believe in personal self-responsibility I mean that and exactly that and nothing more or less.

And as far as being fifteen and knowing so much, well there are reasons for that, too.

First, I was born in Paris. So was my sister, Yvonne.

Our father, who is dead now, was a journalist. He was reporter for the wire services, and a very good one, too.

My mother has huge scrapbooks filled with his writings, and all of us, Yvonne, mother, and I have read and reread his work.

God, he was brilliant.

The world really lost a lot when my father died.

Because, not only could he write, but he was a man who was gifted with an acute ability to see things exactly the way they were.

He understood the events that were talking place around him, and he was able to set them into a larger world context.

So that for him, nothing took place in a vacuum. He understood that everything affects and effects everything else. He called it his theory of the 'seamless universe' and it was a theory that has yet to be proved wrong.

Anyhow, we didn't move back to the United States until I was nine.

Yvonne was about sixteen at the time.

And the funny thing was that neither of us girls spoke English very well despite the fact that both of us are Americans.

And that means that we're especially mature for our ages because we were raised in the intellectual European tradition of being mature and adult and straight-thinking and self-responsible at a very early age.

In other words, we were never really children.

After all, the whole idea of the 'teenager' is an American invention.

The bobby-socker is something that didn't exist in the world until that era in American history when Frank Sinatra started doing his thing.

Until that time some one from the age of twelve to twenty wasn't considered any better or any worse or any different than the rest of the people in the world.

So, until that time, the teen-ager wasn't treated like some precious jewel and pampered and given special privileges and a license to act silly and stupid.

And you'll know what I'm talking about if you give it just the least little bit of thought.

I mean, until about 1935 in this country, so-called teen-agers were treated like adults, not like some kind of special category of human being that operated under rules and regulations that applied only during the teens.

How old was Juliet when she and Romeo first got together? About sixteen.

And how old was Mary when she gave birth to Jesus? About fourteen.

And there are dozens and dozens of queens and kings in history who took their thrones when they were teenagers and managed the affairs of their nations and countries as well as could be expected of anyone, no matter what their age.

A lot of great composers were writing operas when they were twelve or younger.

A lot of great thinkers already achieved major things by the time they were twenty.

Why, right up to this very day, the typical mathematician does his or her best work before the time they're thirty-two.

So I'm telling you all this just because I want you to fully understand that just because I'm 'only' fifteen doesn't mean I'm not already an adult.

I am an adult.

And my only real problem is that others won't accept me as such. They can't.

They're not trained to think that way and they can't deal with it intelligently.

They come across someone like me and they think I'm supposed to be fascinated with silly things like acid rock and proms and comic books and stuff like that.

Well, all those things are well and good. I don't put them down.

But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to be limited to a steady diet of that kind of silly stuff without having all the rest of it, too!

I just want to live!

I want to have my own way because my own way makes a whole lot more sense than not!

I want to be left alone to pursue my own way because I am not a child, I am not the typical American teen-ager and I refuse to turn my mind and body and feelings off just because of some stupid public attitude about "not being old enough."

Am I ever chattering on!

You have to excuse me, Doctor, but I seldom get the opportunity to talk so freely.

Usually I have to be on my guard all the time.

Usually I don't dare speak my real thoughts to bluntly and in such detail.

Because if I did, I would panic everybody around me and then they would have to start attacking me one way or the other because they would feel threatened by my obvious maturity as compared with their equally obvious immaturity.

That's just another way of saying it's hard being different.

It's hard being the smartest and most daring one in the crowd.

And it's dangerous, too.

Because if I let my light shine with it's full intensity, the weird adults who hate intelligence and creativity and vivacity go way out of their way to clamp down on me and make me less than I actually am and could be. They want to crush me.

They want to make me as stupid and banal and lead as pointless a life as the lives they lead.

And I won't let them! Or, at least, I will resist them! I resist them with all my strength and power and ability.

In the end, I may lose to them. That's always more than just a possibility.

After all, I'm just one person and, no matter how developed and mature I am for my age, there are still more of them than there are of me.

So, just in terms of numbers, the chances of them getting to me and destroying me are very, very great.

And then there's the fact that all those destructive, threatened, fearful people will overwhelm and destroy me because they have all the authority on their side.

They are the Establishment, not me.

And the Establishment hates me, because I am definitely not a part of it.

So that's what I mean when I say I don't usually talk to much or so freely.

I can't.

It would be giving my enemies too much information about me, and they do not hesitate to use that information against me and try to make me into yet another image of their vulgar, stupid, fearful, cowardly, colorless selves!

And I do not want to be like them! I am not like them!

And, even if it means my early death, I will not bow down to their second-rate ideas and moralities and so-called standards and ambitions!

What standards? What ambitions?

What they call a career is nothing more than a comfortable wasting of time!

What they call morality is nothing more than a poor excuse and cover up for their own cowardly, gutless fear!

What they call ambition is nothing more than a polite way of describing their sadism and their real need to hurt and destroy.

And why do they need to hurt and destroy?

"I'll tell you why!

Because they cannot create, that's why!

Because, in their littleness of heart and mind and soul, they have nothing really worthwhile to develop and contribute.

They sense, if they don't actually already know, that they take up more space and eat more food than they deserve.

So when they come across someone like me, someone who is fully alive and alert and contributes all out of proportion to what I consume, they are filled with envy and fear and disgust.

Instead of celebrating the fact that at least one of us has somehow managed to break through the heavy mud of our culture, they resent the fact that I'm not a robot or zombie like they are.

They are the dead, Doctor, and they resent the living.

They resent me!

Because I am not dead, and I will not make-believe and roll over and play dead for them.

So, anyhow, Doctor, I guess I'd better get back to the immediate point at hand.

And that's what's been happening at school.

Like I said earlier, not only are the women in my family independent and intellectual and free-thinking, but we're also very, very much interested in sports.

My mother played Softball and was the captain of a championship team. I already told you that she was very independent for her time and all that.

That's how my father first met mother. He was covering a story about her and the team when they met.

And my sister, Yvonne, she's interested in horses.

You know anything about competition riding, Doctor?

No? Oh. Well, if you did, you'd recognize my sister's name. She's already famous in those circles. A real champion if ever there was one.

So, in that regard, everyone was doing beautifully, my mother and my sister.

But not me!

And I was beginning to feel real bad about that.

And that was way back, years ago, before I was even twelve.

I was feeling bad about it even then.

After all, I was the only woman in the family without a sport she could call her own!

And it wasn't that I hadn't tried. I had tried, you can listen to that and take it for the absolute truth.

But nothing worked out the way I wanted it to work out.

And I had tried everything. You name it, and I had tried it. But nothing spoke to me, nothing made me sing out with happiness and pleasure.

Nothing in the world of sports caused me to want to push and endure and strive to achieve the heights.

And then came swimming!

I guess the thing that did it for me about swimming was finally reading an article about the Olympic swimming stars.

Did you know that most of them are young, very, very young?

Did you know that most of them are women? Girls, if you like?

Yes, they are!

And so that was the sport for me!

I plunged into swimming, so to speak and made a great splash right from the very beginning.

Excuse me for laughing, Doctor, but I seldom make puns.

Anyhow, I started swimming when I was twelve, almost thirteen, and the progress I made was nothing less than amazing.

Right now I'm competing for the Olympics myself, and the chances of my winning are very, very good.

In fact, I'm a favorite. If I don't make the team, it will come as a great surprise for everyone, especially me!

And I owe a lot of my success to my coach, Miss Patti Lee Star!

She's been helping me and inspiring me and encouraging me, and without her none of my success in swimming would have come about.

It was Patti Lee who first taught me how to put all of myself into my swimming and make the greatest effort possible!

It was Patti Lee who first pushed me over the edge of what I thought were the limits of my endurance!

It was Patti Lee who held me in her beautiful, strong womanly arms while I puked my guts out into the water, hardly able to breathe, and half blind with the tremendous effort championship swimming demands!

It was Patti Lee who first made clear to me that joy and a sense of wonder are to be attained through the struggle to excel in the art of swimming!

And it was Patti Lee I fell in love with!

There I said it!

I love Patti Lee Star and there's no denying it!

I didn't choose to fall in love with her. I didn't just sit down one day and casually say to myself, "Well, I think I'll fall in love with my swimming coach."

No, it just hit me! A bolt from the blue, like they say!

And there it was, my great love and respect and admiration for her all rolled up into one huge emotional crush!

But there was just one thing wrong with it!

Patti Lee Star didn't love me.

Patti Lee Star doesn't love me, and it's driving me crazy!

And now it's beginning to drive her crazy, too. Because, you see, Doctor, I don't just love her in a spiritual sense.

I love her sexually, too.

And Patti Lee can't accept that. She can't deal with it.

But she has to, you understand, because I make her deal with it. I make her face the fact that I want her ... all ways!

And I ... I ... well, I forced her into having sex with me! And now, I ... well, my poor Patti Lee is so stricken with guilt and shame ... I'm losing her!

And that, Doctor, I can't bear!

So I want to tell you all about our sex life, and then I want your advice so I can take the right action.

Before it's too late Before it's too late for me ... and for Patti Lee!

Well, of course, as I sat opposite the suffering young Georgianna, I wanted to hear all the details she felt were important. But the hour was up, and all I could suggest was that she try to modify her behavior toward her coach until she and I could get all the facts and then decide what, if anything, we could do about her situation.

INTERVIEW TWO

Well, the hour for Georgianna's next session came and went and there was no Georgianna. I was very worried about her not showing up, but didn't call her or try to contact her. I believe patients have to take the initiative in treatment. In any case, the next week Georgianna's hour came up once again ... and there she was! She looked like a new person.

Doctor, I have great news for you!

I wasn't able to meet your at the regular hour last week because something really doubly important came up.

Chuck Williams came into town. Now that may not mean much to you because you don't know much about the world of Olympic swimming.

But Chuck Williams is just about the best swimming coach in the country. He's at least one of the top three.

Very, very important. He's just the tops!

And he flew in all the way from Denver just to meet me and Patti Lee and get us into a three-day training program of the greatest intensity.

And did he ever have us working.

Both Patti Lee and I learned more in those few days than we ever learned before.

Things about technique and methods and attitudes. It was great, really great.

Church had us both swimming better than either of us ever swam in our lives. It was really wonderful.

And it was exhausting!

It left both of us happy and excited, yes, but totally and completely drained of energy and strength.

Because that's part of Chuck's training method.

He believes in taking his people and pushing them and pushing and pushing until you think you just can't swim another stroke!

And then, when you finally get to that point of absolute exhaustion and you feel like you're more dead than alive, you know what he does to you next?

Does he give you a rest?

Does he say, "Okay, good, now take a break?"

No, now way!

He gets you back in the water absolutely as soon as you can move and he makes you start swimming all over again!

Anyhow, that's what we did for three days, Patti Lee and I.

And that's all we did.

The rest of the world and the rest of the universe simply ceased to exist!

That's all we did, was swim and swim and swim and swim.

And when the last day of Chuck's training visit was finally over, Patti Lee and I were limp with exhaustion.

Chuck had to get on the plane and go back to Denver, but he wanted to get as much out of us as he could before he had to go, so he had us in the water right up to the last minute.

Then he left, heading straight out for the airport.

He left Patti Lee and us alone in the water in the pool at the school.

And it was great! We had the whole, beautiful pool to ourselves.

And that's when we had the best sex ever.

Patti Lee was so much more tired than I was. She's more the coach than the swimmer, and so it was harder for her than it was me.

Me, I was tired. Patti Lee, she was almost completely out of it.

She could hardly move, so I pulled her out of the water and literally dragged her to the showers in the next room.

Then I lifted her up and laid her out on one of the marble benches near the shower.

I then brought lots of buckets of hot, sudsy water out of the shower and over to the bench.

When I got back, Patti Lee hadn't moved a muscle. She was still where I put her, exactly the way she was when I put her there.

And, without saying a word, I took her bathing suit off her beautiful, adorable body and carefully, lovingly washed her with the hot, sudsy water.

She was moaning with pleasure and release.

And when the washing was over, I then gently poured bucket after bucket of clean, warm water over her body, from tip to toe and back again, until she was completely and thoroughly rinsed off.

I followed that with a massage!

A massage of heated baby oil and perfume.

I rubbed and stroked every inch of her body for what seemed like many, many hours.

Soon all the tension and strain was gone! She was completely relaxed, as limp as a rag doll.

And she had no strength left, none whatsoever, none at all!

She was, so to speak, completely and totally and beautifully at the mercy of my love and adoration for her and for her beautiful body.

So I started kissing her while I massaged her gently and sweetly.

I massaged her temples and kissed her ears while I was doing that. I stuck my warm, wet tongue into her ears and rubbed it around and around and around.

I kissed and licked her neck all over, including the shoulders and the base of the neck.

And my kisses were as gentle as feathers or as gently falling snow.

And I worked my way down her body with my lips and tongue and teeth, licking and kissing and sweetly biting her trembling flesh, frying to give her as much delightful pleasure as I was getting by doing what I was doing.

And, oh, it was so fine!

It was so beautiful!

It got to the point where her wonderful, firm, fleshy body was responding to every little thing I did in the most marvelous way!

She was completely sensitized!

She had become super-sensitive!

I guess, it was the combination of the tremendous energy we had put out while training so intensely with Chuck.

So there was that energy and the exhilaration of it, and there was the long warm bath I had given her, and the massage, and the oil and perfume, and the warm, wet marble bench she was stretched out on, and the moist, soothing clouds of steam that were seeping out of the shower room.

There was all that happening to her at one and the same time!

She was glorious!

She was so warm and real and responsive and loveable. She was so ... so alive!

Touching her and making love to her ... was life!

I was seeing reality clearly and joyfully, in the most delicious way ... for the first time my life!

It was as if a veil had been torn away from my eyes!

I beheld my beloved.

And she was beautiful to see!

And then Patti Lee opened her eyes (oh, how beautiful her eyes are!), and she smiled upon me!

And when I looked deeply and lovingly into her eyes for the first time, really, I could actually see into her soul!

Yes!

And she was clear and beautiful and open, like a pool.

And I plunged into her!

We swam each other, so to speak ... and to be able to say such a thing!

That is, in itself, a miracle!

How sweet love is, that it should so generously reveal all things with such delight!

Love is the great teacher and its method is none other than Patti Lee Star!

Oh, how wonderfully well-named my lover is!

Star!

Bright, serene and infinite is she! And we took each other, the one unto the other!

And each illuminated each!

Love is so terrible it is blinding!

Love is great and powerful beast, beautiful and dangerous, which may, even in innocence and play, move but a paw to lay waste!

I traveled her cunt with my tongue!

I introduced my how, wet, longing tongue into every recess and intimacy of her incredible cunt lips.

I gave my lover joy!

I sent my longing tongue searching for the thrilling lever of her incredible cave!

And when at last I discovered it, stretching with anticipation and longing, it, too, I tongue-embraced!

And her groans were symphonies of revelation!

She sang our ecstasies!

And I played on!

So you, see, Doctor, everything's all right now.

This is the last time I'll be seeing you, probably.

Unless you'd care to come and visit Patti Lee and me.

We'd be delighted to receive you. Thank you so much, Doctor, for listening to me.

You've been a very good ear!