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"Then I went after them the bastards, I had a nice shape a little thin, maybe but I had nice breasts. There were a lot of passes made at me in school especially from the whiteys. So, I began to take them on, one at a time and in a bunch.

"The more my pussy itched and burned, the more I wanted to spread it around among whitey. It began to be real painful for me, but I kept on moving around. I began to branch out and take on the older guys. I was too ashamed to have my daddy know, so I began to go into other neighborhoods. I found that I could actually get money for it as much as twenty dollars and I really went wild.

"I began to hang around a strip club downtown. When the show was over a lot of horny guys would come out. I didn't care if they were a little loaded, and it wasn't altogether just getting even with them, either. By then, I'd really begun to enjoy nicking. I had a black boy friend, but I always made him use a safety He couldn't understand it, but I insisted. But with the white guys, I used to get an extra bang out of knowing that I was giving V.D. to those white bastards.

"It got so bad, after about six months, that I had to go to a doctor. He was a Negro and a good friend of my dad. I thought I could trust him. But I was wrong. He called my daddy, and then he called the health department! Can you dig that? So, I just ran away. I had plenty of money, and I knew how I could easily earn more. I looked at least seventeen or so, and I got a room in a cheap rooming house in the slum section. I fit all right, because there were mostly Negroes there.

"I went out whoring. I was only at it four days when I got caught. After I get out, I guess I'll go home. My daddy wants me to. But I don't know what I'll do. I don't feel like a little girl anymore. And I don't know if I can take the treatment my parents will give me. Oh, they'll be kind, but they'll be so goddamned sugary and helpful that it will make me throw up.

"And I've become pretty used to having steady sex and being pretty much on my own. I just don't know… "

After consulting with psychiatrists, Samantha's father sent her to live with his brother in a large southern metropolis. His brother is a social worker with four children of his own. Samantha's parents hope that this wholesome atmosphere and the understanding supervision of her uncle will straighten her out.

Her motivation for prostitution is, admittedly, most unusual. However, one wonders what path she might have taken had her rapers been black. Psychiatrists who examined her very briefly were unable to determine much about her attitude toward promiscuity or normal boy-girl relationships.

Vengeance may be her undoing. It surely cannot lead to her salvation.

One of the behind-the-scenes battles in the sexual revolution is that of pre-teen-agers to resolve their relationships with their elders. They not only challenge with the question: "Who am I?" but they constantly ask: "Who are you to tell me what to do or how to act?"

A new phenomena has arisen: the rebellious child who turns to sexual promiscuity and even prostitution merely as a means of defying the Puritanical rules which their parents have inherited. Studies of case histories of today's youth make it abundantly clear that establishing their own identity breaking the "apron strings" involves a great deal of sexual activity. In earlier, less complicated times, the lives of prepubescent children were severely controlled. With today's working parents this is almost impossible. And the persons to whom parents look for help in controlling their children the teachers, the church, the neighbors all these are too wrapped up in their own upside-down world of revolt and strife to give the proper attention.

So we find a new kind of sexual morality prevailing. Some experts foresee a generation upcoming which will have no real concept of morality where sex is concerned, and they optimistically state that this will be good, for there will be few, if any, "guilt hang-ups." It is too soon to tell. The role of morality, identity and revolt reveal their influence in the case of Jessica R., who may be quite typical of thousands of youngsters who have not yet entered adolescence.

Until she was eleven Jessica's life was almost totally dominated by her mother. She lost her father when she was only two, and her mother, realizing Jessica's extra needs, sought to supply them by being a constant companion and "pal" to her child. They shopped, cooked, sewed and baked, and did the feminine things of life together. Jessie's mother was a good parent, but was very strict. And most of Jessie's early life was lived in her own home under the watchful eye of her mother. Her father left a sizable amount of insurance, and for several years Jessie's mother did not have to work. However, there were few luxuries, though the home was wholesome and adequate.

Recalling those times, Jessica told her psychiatrist: "I was lucky. My mother was a lady and a good woman." Later, her psychiatrist said that her mother was far too perfect for Jessie to have identified with her. She was too much of "a saint" and many youngsters today do not wish to identify with this image. They shy away from the implied sexual and moral restrictions that such an image places upon an individual.

At age eleven Jessica's search for an identity took the form of rebellion against her mother. For the first time, discord came between them.

"I don't know what happened," Jessie reported. "Suddenly I didn't agree with mother about anything even when I knew she was right. It was funny; the same things I agreed with the day before, I no longer could see her way. I was like a new and different person.

"We began to argue about boys. I was almost twelve and I wanted to date at least go to parties with boys. I had blossomed out overnight from a shy, introverted person, to a bubbling extrovert, especially when boys were near. (This change is not uncommon, psychiatrists claim, at this stage of development).

Jessie's mother was not overly strict, but she was very cautious about Jessica's early dates. She realized that her daughter was a sexual "know-nothing," and she didn't want her to encounter any sexual experiences that she couldn't handle. But when the arguments became disruptive, her mother agreed to let Jessie date under certain regulations: a ten o'clock curfew, no drive-in theaters or restaurants, and almost always, a double-date.

Jessica told her psychiatrist: "I was tickled pink because I knew I could break any of these rules without her ever getting wise."

A sixteen-year-old neighbor boy had been asking for a date with her, and Jessie finally agreed. Her mother thought the boy was too old for her, but she consoled herself that Jessie was mature-minded, a "home girl." 'and besides, the boy was a close neighbor with a good reputation. Their first date was at a neighborhood theater, and Jessie decided that she'd bend or break the rules early.

Her psychiatrist says: "Jessica was testing herself. On the one hand she was dependent and knew it, and on the other hand she was involved in the maturing process and was testing whether she really could be independent of her mother."

On her first date Jessie acted as seductively as she envisioned the most sexy young woman in the world would act. She deliberately teased Ted with the closeness of her body, fingering the palm of his hand with the secret signal for intercourse she had learned from schoolmates, and brushing against his tormented penis with her hand and body. They left the show early and walked to a secluded park. Once there, they traded kisses for several breathtaking moments. But that was as far as Ted would go. They arrived home at eleven-thirty and Jessie's mother was furious. She forbade the sobbing girl any further dates until she was at least fifteen!

Jessie began to meet Ted secretly, and in a short time their meetings had evolved into hot sex sessions that included oral-genital sex, anal intercourse and regular intercourse.

(Jessica's constant reference to her mother "being right" led her psychiatrist to believe that the girl was suffering guilt feelings and was subconsciously seeking a re-identification with the mother.) Four months after she had turned thirteen. Jessie tearfully -told her mother that she thought she was pregnant!