Relative frigidity requires the advice of a family physician or a marriage counselor more than that of a psychiatrist…
Considering Kristi Y-'s adolescent period (nothing is known of her early childhood), she is, if anything, extraordinarily well-adjusted. She manifests no signs of neurosis, in spite of the fact that the frustration which she must unquestionably feel would have under similar circumstances driven another person to acute neurosis and/or psychosis. One cannot underestimate the role that her extrasexual interests (acting, interior decorating, etc.) have played in helping her to maintain a levelheaded existence.
Contrary to her repeatedly voiced rejection of marriage, and everything that is traditionally tied with it, the subject is, in fact, with controlled desperation hoping to find love, which she superficially downgrades (except in her affair with, and short-lived "marriage" to, Richie-an affair that was doomed from the start), a husband who can satisfy her and whom she can, in turn, satisfy, and a status of wife and mother. Her tragic affair with sadistic young Richie, which terminated in divorce and a period of psychiatric treatment-totally unnecessary-at a "private sanitarium," certainly did nothing to alter Kristi's negative outlook toward marriage.
It is peculiar that during her stay at the private psychiatric clinic no attempt had been made to determine the cause of her apparent frigidity. It is possible that-embittered as anyone understandably would be under the circumstances-she had refused to cooperate with the psychoanalyst who handled her case and, of course, were her frigidity not brought up, there was no way in which the problem could have been resolved.
Her second serious involvement, which she describes in the following portion of her narrative, can be considered serious only in that it portends to end as unrewardingly to the subject as her affair with Richie had ended. Brad, the tenant of one of the apartments in the building in which the subject resides, is obviously a man-if such a term can be used loosely in reference to him-who has no scruples about his lifestyle, his means of obtaining a livelihood, or about other people's feelings. He is not using sex as a diversionary pleasure source but rather as a tool with which he can sustain his leisurely• existence. He holds sex orgies in his apartment, orgies for the participation in which he charges admission.
The subject's attraction to Brad is nothing more than physical infatuation, particularly understandable because of her relatively extended period of sexual abstention (following her aborted affair and marriage to Richie and her psychiatric treatment). Perhaps the most discouraging element in her relationship with Brad, as she describes it, is the apparent inclination on her part to agree to being used, if not abused, as she had once already been by her ex-husband Richie. That there is a masochistic tendency in Kristi cannot be denied; that this tendency is closely related to her frigidity is more than likely. Her rationalization-if a subconscious process of masochism can be called rationalization-is that she is incomplete as a woman because she is incapable of being satisfied by a man through regular coital relationship. and, reciprocally, of being able to satisfy a man; in any relationship, therefore, in which she becomes emotionally involved-i.e., "falls in love with the man"-her feeling of inadequacy catalyzes a feeling of guilt and the guilt demands compensation in the form of punishment, which creates the tendency toward masochism.
May E. Romm, in Judd Marmor's Sexual Inversion: The Multiple Roots of Homosexuality, sums up the development and evolution of masochism in the following words:
It is essential to recognize that [masochism] is not an inherent biological reaction to life. We cannot, in all truth, state that an infant reaches out for pain. Masochism must therefore… be a reaction to frustration, in which the individual repetitively reaches out for pleasure or satisfaction and is continually blocked in his goal or punished for his attempts. In desperation, he may then erotize pain in an unsuccessful attempt to cure himself through suffering… This process may lead to psychopithology of various degrees, from neurosis to psychosis…
One needs but listen to the narrative of Kristi to see that Romm's brief analysis is almost custom-made for the subject.
"Never in my life have I found it difficult to attract the attention of a man I might desire. Especially at a pool. I have this bathing suit that's more a strip of emerald here and another there, a wisp of color, really, and a guaranteed man-catcher. I wore it the day after I'd first spied Brad. First, though, I'd had it out with myself. Though my arguments were logical, even wise, I'd lost easily to good old desire. Since leaving the funny farm I'd indulged only moderately, and then with men who were simply good with their tongues and in no way excited me beyond the immediate physical level. But Brad was something else again.
"My interior-decorating mania forgotten, I spent most of the afternoon poolside. But he didn't appear. I finally gave it up by five, my delicate skin in desperate need of a good oiling. Later that night, after dining alone, I found myself actually in bed early, playing with myself like a teen-ager, visions of Brad, naked, erecting ghosts I couldn't exorcise without an immediate orgasm.
"He didn't show for four days, and like a hunter after a particularly vicious prey, I kept up my stake-out until he finally did appear, more magnificent than ever.
"It was a blow to my ego that he took no notice of me. Instead, he oiled that lovely body, stretched out on his back, and fell asleep.
"That gave me a chance to really eye-ball the joker, from the longish blond hair on his head to his very pink toes. His chest was covered with fine golden hairs, wiry and short, and his flat belly moved lazily. The loose pair of trunks he wore revealed enough so that it appeared that Brad was hung like a horse, too. I swear, my mouth was actually watering as I stared at the promising' bulge and imagined him coaxing that cock of his down my willing throat. As I stared at him his shapely mouth curved into a smile, and my pussy could nearly feel those lips against my reddish triangle.,.. I was on the brink of going back to my apartment and jerking off again, or calling one of the men I knew when he woke up.
"He did manage to toss me a wink as he suddenly collected himself and hurried off. I watched him make his way to Apartment Seven. The hot sun and the erotic heat in my own body somehow made me drowsy. Without realizing it, I fell asleep, fortunately under the shade of.a stringy palm tree. When I awakened an hour or so later, it was with my eyes going, as if by habit, to Apartment Seven. As I watched, a dozen or more people made their way up the stairs to Brad's apartment. Each of them looked strangely uncomfortable, and I found myself wondering just what Brad was doing up there… Some instinct told me I should check it out.
"Fortunately we have this very hip building manager. Actually, I insist on it. Another thing I learned in my early days in Hollywood was that people out here are either very square or very, very hip. It is essential to get one of the former hags if you have to rent an apartment from anyone who lives on the grounds. I looked up Hilda the next day. She supplied more than Brad's name, the fact that he was, on the surface, an unemployed actor, and a few interesting tidbits about his past. She actually knew about the traffic-which took place once a week-at Brad's apartment.
"'It's 'the way he affords this-place, Kristi. Actually, I first found out about it by accident, you know, by answering one of those ads in the underground press l Not that I do that sort of thing all the time or anything, but I had this bet with Libby… '
"I listened, fascinated, while Hilda prattled on. I finally got her back to the point, namely, what the hell was going on at Brad's apartment once a week?
"'Anyway, an ad for a sex club was one thing, but an ad for a "head club" was a whole different thing. Did the ad mean it was a club for dopers, you know, that kind of "head," or did it mean a sex club where everybody just liked to have sex orally?' Hilda giggled. 'Or were they talking about a club for intellectual types?'