Her wardrobe rarely varied outside a jeans and loose-fitting sweater combo. She was aware of her body, but wasn’t terribly interested in it. She met...culously combed her dishwater blond hair, but rarely styled it. It fell straight off her head and around her shoulders in an uninspiring cascade. Clarissa had never been able to nail down exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She loved science, but hated the meticulousness of it. Sometimes she thought about going into politics, but a life. What does it matter where we learn? We are girls. We know these things. I have a cunt. With it I can change the map of the world." Dorinda was enthralled. Here was a woman! Here was the epitome of Women´s Lib. Yet how they would hate her! Few, if any, of them would admit to possessing a cunt. They would call it something else. But then only if they were forced to. They would like to see themselves as a statuesque feminine image without orifices. Sanitary and chaste."Don´t yoy hurt? We do.". More

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