When I was 12, I had a bishop in the Centerville Utah ward named _____. He interviewed me on several occasions. He asked me personal questions about masturbation, if, when and how often, and how and where, I did it. He made me come in to his office repeatedly and asked me if I had done it over the last week. After several interviews where I told him yes I did, he disfellowshipped me and made me not take the sacrament while sitting with my family. He made me come up to the stand and shake his hand after sacrament meeting. He made me Signal to him how many times I had masturbated in the last week.
He told me I would not have my disfellowshipment removed until I stopped masturbating. I eventually stopped going up on the stand to see him and started taking the sacrament anyway. It was too much for me to have my dad look at me every week and give me that questioning look about why I was not taking the sacrament. I started only attending sacrament meeting and leaving the church and walking back to my house where my family was all gone at church. There was a lot of shame wrapped around this. I remember it like it was yesterday still. But, I’m over it. I left church a long time ago. I think this was one of the first steps pushing me in that direction.
When I was 18, I again had a different bishop who interviewed me for a temple marriage with my fiancé. When we had sexual contact he asked for details about that contact. He made me come in and tell him in detail how we had done it. I was again disfellowshipped and not allowed to get married in the temple. I got married in the relief society room. By this time I really didn’t care much about the church anyway. But it still was pretty humiliating. That marriage ended in divorce within two years. I think a big part of it was the sexual shame that I felt relating to the interactions when I was 12.
I then got engaged to another guy at 20 years old again the bishop asked me detailed questions about sexual contact. We didn’t actually have intercourse so we were eventually allowed to get married in the temple. But not after repeated interviews with details having to be shared. I went to the temple one time and was so horrified I never went back again. I think the only reason I married him was because my dad liked him and he would marry me in the temple. My dad told me no one would ever take me after I was so damaged. That marriage lasted for 12 brutal, abusive years. It’s been over 15 years since I divorced that man and I’m still not sure I’m completely over it.
What this tells me is that this is a common practice for bishops to ask personal detailed sexual questions of girls. I have no idea if the boys I was involved with are ask these questions, because I was ask them by myself and not supervise by any parent or partner.