Lotte, 27 years old:
I was ten years old when we were sent to a camp for two weeks. One of the
teachers, a man I liked very much, went with us. He was about 30 and an easy
mixer. All the girls in my class were wild about him.
We were taken to the sea, and there he lay on the beach with one of the women teachers. I went over and started talking to them. When she went for a swim I settled down next to him and continued talking. He just lay there looking at all the other women and so on. Then I turned over on my back and said that it felt really nice. But he wouldn't turn over on his back, and I discovered it was because he had an erection. I didn't say anything about it, just talked about how nice it was to be with adults. He seemed very uneasy. I moved closer to him. Holding my breath, I somehow managed to slip my hand under his stomach. He was rather confused and very excited. I lay there and chattered on about everything and nothing. I didn't say a word about what was happening, but I had the feeling it was really shameless.
This was far beyond the limits; I was absolutely, wildly fascinated. I don't know whether he ejaculated or not, but after this I started visiting him; I could see he was expecting me, and we made trips together. I remember once we were standing behind a bicycle shed and he asked me to touch him. We touched each other. I thought I had a very special relationship with him.
This continued even after we returned home from the camp. I went to see him, as a good and conscientious student, and we would sit and talk. The initiative was always mine. He must have been mortally afraid.
It continued through the whole summer. But when school started again the fascination on my part faded away, and so it died down. This would have been extremely rude of me if I had been an adult. But the excitement... And it was nice when he touched me. He desired me and I desired him. I knew it was naughty to have contacts with an adult, but I also thought it was nice.
What was he to you, aside from the sex?
He was something but not a kind of father figure. He was more like a boy a bit
my senior whom I had under my thumb. I saw him as a peer. He wasn't a pair of
comforting arms. It wasn't as though I was doing him a favour; it was more as
though I was pressuring him into it. On the other hand, I don't believe he was
I lived very much in my own world. I didn't have any close girl friends. I didn't have a particularly close relationship with my parents. I was definitely not naive and was quite aware of what I was doing.
I still come across him now and again. We smile at each other, but never talk about what happened.
A smile full of secrecy?
A little "we know what we did" sort of smile. It's gone on all these
years. And that is all I can say about him.
Then there was a woman teacher. She was a lot older than he was, about 40 - my handicraft teacher. She was a lesbian. Everybody talked about it, but nobody really knew. She was most sweet. I ingratiated myself to her mainly because I thought she was exciting.
And so, one day I misbehaved at school. I had an hysterical attack and smashed my recorder to pieces. I was sent down to her. I felt very miserable, mainly because I'd been so crazy.
I can remember that she hugged me, something my mother never did. I could feel her breasts. Suddenly the whole situation changed. I was no longer just being consoled; I was clinging to her and feeling her. I remember this as a moment of great intensity. She, too, realised that something had happened. She went suddenly stiff and tried to free herself from me. But I clung to her all the harder.
I think we stood like that for a long time. Then I began to touch her breasts. She did nothing. And so I continued to touch her. It's hard to explain, but emotionally it seemed to me this was the right thing to do.
Then suddenly it was time for recess and I didn't know how to get away. I ran off, to get far away from all of this. I couldn't understand what had happened.
Later, she asked me if I'd like to come and see her, which I did. We met regularly for the next year and a half. I visited her and she took me to handicraft exhibitions and did a lot to get me interested in creative things. These are the things that I earn a living from today.
She never told me what to do with her. In a certain way it was a meeting between a child and a woman, but looking back on it, I experienced it as a fully adult erotic relationship. She brought me to climax for the very first time. Today I see this as something incredibly beautiful - more beautiful than my experience with the male teacher. But when I entered the sixth grade I left school, and so it came to its own end.
I began to be more interested in boys my own age. But I still loved her very
much. I thought, and still think, that women have fascinating bodies. She was
softer, much softer, than my mother. I could sit for hours at her side and touch
her, and see how her nipples went soft and hard and soft and hard again. But we
never said a word to each other about it. I think we were both afraid of doing
so. I also think that she was afraid of me at times.
On the other hand, she was the first person I phoned after I had passed my examination. So she meant very much to me. I still write letters to her from time to time, but I never mention the sex.
I don't think she was particularly attracted to young girls. But I think he was.
Was there a very big difference between the two experiences?
They were completely different. I never got to know him -
it was an exclusively sexual relationship. With her it was so
much different. She made me fantastically strong mentally. There was a lot of harmony in my relationship with her, and this was totally lacking in my relationship with him.
Could you have attained such harmony in a relationship with a man?
I don't really think so. To put it crudely, it was all very cock-fixated. Also from my side. But he was a good friend in the way he took care of me.
You weren't the innocent little girl people would normally have expected you to be. How did you feel about being so different from the norm?
I never thought about it. It was only when I was 14 or 15 that I discovered that a girl is supposed to wait until a man takes the initiative.... I never wanted to join in the game that I was so small, and so submissive, and so neglected, and then comes the brave knight and saves me, and I am oh, so grateful; and then that's it. That's just too boring and too easy.
Were your parents aware of what was going on?
No, they never knew anything about these two relationships. But I think my mother was a little bit proud of my having such good contact with the teachers at school.
Was she jealous?
She had no time for that. She had five children, and studied in the evening. I don't think I'll ever tell my mother. I think she would feel betrayed - she has such good friendly relations with both of them. She wouldn't be able to understand that it was I who had wanted these things and pressed to get them. She wouldn't be able to understand that I hadn't been abused. In her view the child is always abused in these cases, and the adult is the abuser.
What is your relation to the woman teacher at present?
A bit distant. But she's a long-standing friend of my family. She's older than
my parents. I think she fell in love with me. An unhappy love, because I wasn't
able to understand it. She never said anything to me along these lines, but I
began to think so later. I suspect she would have liked me to be 10, 20 or 30
This was the most intimate relationship I have ever had. Verbally and physically I have been much more intimate with a lot of other people, but this is still the relationship I experienced as most intimate.