Member-only story
Why is so much ‘erotic literature’ for women extremely abusive?
Do women like this stuff? And if so, why?
My first exposure to sex lit was when I was about 16. Like most girls of my generation, it was the abominable 50 Shades Of Grey. My friend Sophie had bought a copy as a joke and would read passages of it aloud in the sixth form common room to shrieks of laughter and disgust, until it was confiscated. As we were all virgins, it was very much the amuse bouche to all our later sexual escapades. Even today, I find the whole genre deeply hilarious and greatly enjoy laughing at it with friends.
Female sexuality very much was, and still is, understood as shameful, embarrassing, bad, and humiliating. You are a slut, a whore, easy, undesirable, lacking-self-respect or disgusting if you openly like sex, even with your long-term boyfriend or husband. One simply does not enjoy sex, as a woman. Being seen to seek it out, want it, or find it pleasurable is scandalous and demeaning.
No, you have to demurely refuse it, wait way longer than you’d actually like, and always wait for your acne covered goofy boyfriend to initiate any contact. And you must never, ever, tell him what you enjoy, fantasise about, or want him to do, or how much you want to bang him, or he’ll think you’re a revolting slag and ditch you. Most women will tell you…
