At school I was
more unpopular than ever and seemed to have a positive genius
for doing the wrong thing. On the rare occasions when my
companions admitted me to their counsels I was a willing dupe and
catspaw, with the result that I was much in trouble with my
teachers. Being morbidly sensitive I suffered keenly under these
circumstances and, as my health was not at all good, I often made
of my frequent headaches excuses to stay at home, where I would
lie abed brooding over my small troubles or, more often, dreaming
erotic day-dreams and making repeated attempts to produce an
orgasm. But though these efforts were accompanied by the most
lustful thoughts and my imagination created situations of
oriental extravagance, I was 13 years old when they first met
with success. I remember the occasion very distinctly, the more
so because I thought of it much and bitterly when shortly
afterwards I tried to abandon a habit which the family "doctor
book" assured me must result in every variety of damnation. At
the moment, however, I was greatly surprised and gratified and
tried at once to repeat the delightful sensation, but was unable
to do so until the following day.
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