Jesus Land: A Memoir By Julia Scheeres
Available At: Rampart
Categories : Anti-Religion, Cursing, Drug Abuse, Racism, Sexual
Description: The author describes her childhood with strict religious parents, two adopted Black siblings, and reform school in the Dominican Republic.
YA Label?: No
Notes: This book contains explicit sexual nudity; obscene sexual activities including incest; underage alcohol abuse; and profanity.
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Page 75: Jerome thrust a mildewed picture of a woman with blond hair over my book. She was naked, gagged, and tied to a chair. Straps were wound tightly around the base of her breasts, making them stick out like fleshy missiles, and her blue eyes were wide with pain or fear…”She looks like you,” Jerome said. “Except you don’t have these yet.” He touched the woman’s strangled breasts and then my flat chest…As I reached for it, I noticed his penis spilling from the slit of his pajama pants like a rotten banana…We played like that, him with his dick hanging out, me averting my eyes, until the television show ended and it was time to go to bed. But it kept happening. I’d be peeling potatoes or practicing piano and he’d walk by
with his penis poking out. I didn’t understand why he did it, and pretended not to notice.
Page 75: A few days after my twelfth birthday, he tried to kiss me…”You’re not really my sister,” he said when I stood up. At thirteen, he was already a good six inches taller than me, and a whole lot stronger. He grabbed my shoulders and tried to smash his mouth onto mine, but I averted my face and his chapped lips grazed my forehead instead.
Page 147: After a few weeks of practicing sex, I’m starting to feel something. Not the eyeballs-rolled-toward-heaven-suck-in-your-breath immensity that Scott gets out of it, but a swelling pleasure that builds as he seesaws on top of me and ends all too quickly when he suddenly stops and says “fuck” in a small voice before rolling off me. But it’s enough of a something to make Scott clamp his hand over my mouth so I don’t make noise and enough of a something to make me want to practice alone, rubbing the swelling place with a nail polish bottle and pretending it’s Scott until my body trembles and a brightness like heat lightning flashes through me and I whisper “fuck” as well.
Page 256: I’m still learning not to gag; it’s like learning to give a blow job.
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