"And what is entry for her? Entry is the first acceptance in her body that she is generic, not idividual; that she is one of a many that is antagonistic to the individual interpretation she might have of her own worth, purpose, or intention.

Entered, she finds herself depersonalized into a function and worth less to him than he is worth to himself: because he broke through, pushed in, entered. Without him there, she is supposed to feel empty, though there is no vacuum there, not physiologically.

Entered, she finds out what it is to be occupied: and sometimes the appropriate imagery is of evil and war, the great spreading evil of how soldiers enter and contaminate. In the words of Marguerite Dura, "Evil is there, at the gates, against the skin. It spreads, like war, everywhere: breaking in everywhere, stealing, imprisoning, always there, merged and mingled...a prey to the intoxicating passion of occupying that delightful territory, a child's body, a body of those less strong, of conquered peoples."

...It is from the sex that she takes the texture of wartime invasion and occuptaion, the visceral reality of occupation: evil up against the skin- at the point of entry, just touching the slit; then it breaks in and at the same time it surrounds everything, and those with power use the conquered who are weaker, inhabit them as territory.
Physically, the woman in intercourse is a space inhabited, a literal terrritory occupied literally: occupied even if there has been no resistance, no force; even if the occupied person said, "yes please, yes hurry, yes more."

-Andrea Dworkin from her novel "Intercourse"