One of the first kinky things my The Ex ever did to me was to shave me. I didn’t think of it as “kinky” then, I just thought he was kind of weird to want to do it, and only let him do it every once in awhile. I know, hard to believe I was once a prude, huh? But it wasn’t actually prudishness, it was more that I was intent on being what The Ex wanted me to be, or what I thought I was supposed to be, and a girl that liked her husband to shave her cunt did not fit into that definition. Because that was the thing–I really liked it when he did it.
I have a greater understanding of my own psychology now, and understand the curious mixture of embarrassment and desire that is such a large part of my sexuality, but then it only confused me. Having him look so closely, and yet, in some odd way, impersonally, at me, inspection-style, having him open my legs and spread my pussy lips apart, having him make me turn around so he could (gasp) inspect my ass (and even shave there !) was exquisitely, painfully embarrassing–and thus made me excited. And that excitement, because I wasn’t supposed to get excited about something so “depraved,” in turn embarrassed me more. So I only let him do it occasionally, and then only under protest, though, by the time he was done, I was always dripping wet, and we always ended up fucking like animals, usually on the floor of the bathroom.
Guess it turned him on too.
Later I recognized the D/s dynamic in what we were doing: a large part of it for him was in “convincing” me to do something I didn’t want to do. The first time he decided to shave me after we started intentionally exploring a D/s dynamic was hot beyond belief. No longer did he have to ask me, no longer did I have the power to refuse him. He tied my arms behind my back and pulled me by the hair into the bathroom. Slapping my legs apart, he pulled my cuntlips open, and magnified the my feeling of being dispassionately inspected with his callous, peremptory attitude. When I protested him shaving all my pubic hair (always before I had insisted on keeping the little triangle of hair at the top that I still prefer) he slapped my face and then duct-taped my mouth shut and finished the job. I don’t think he got through the whole job before he had bent me over the bathtub and was fucking me from behind.
Interestingly, I had some real issues early on with being shaved completely. I hated it, it humiliated me to have no pubic hair, and it didn’t feel hot and sexy and good. I even posted it on an online “submissive’s” forum, and got told how awful my Master was if he required that of me, when it was obviously something that bothered me so much, and that I had a right to set my own boundaries, to set limits. Uh-huh. What they didn’t get was that the very humiliation aspect of it was a turn-on. I had no problem, even then, of setting limits and boundaries…even in the beginning I had a pretty good head on my shoulders; I had only posted on the issue to see if anyone else felt similarly. I am glad that I didn’t listen to these well-meaning women, in fact, as I would have missed out on a lot of embarrassment and fun. And sometimes I think about all those women that have endless boundaries and limits and insist on keeping so much control of things, and wonder how much they are missing out on, if they’d just let themselves explore things that made them a little uncomfortable once in awhile.
In any case, Ad shaves me now occasionally. With us the dynamic is completely different, though. I have to ask him to do it for me, which I don’t like, but because I really enjoy it and actually need his help to get all the nooks and crannies, I do end up asking him. He knows how much I enjoy being “groomed,” being care for, and he enjoys it as well. It’s still somewhat embarrassing to me, especially when he shaves my asshole, but it’s more of a shared pleasure than a D/s game. I miss that aspect of it though sometimes. I miss it being The Ex’s idea, my token resistance and the capitulation. Yes, we both knew it made me as hot as it made him, but that was all part of the game. Still, there is such a pleasure in the way Ad lays out the towel and shaving implements, in feeling his hands pull on me, open me, in seeing him looking so closely at me. And in the feel of the cool metal of the razor sliding over my skin, so delicate and yet so dangerous. And there is the added pleasure in that many times I am getting shaved, and asking for such close attention, because I am going to see W that afternoon or evening, and I want to be shaved perfectly for him. Ad knows this as well, and I think it gives him pleasure too, knowing that he is sending me to W newly clean, newly shorn, and ready for W’s inspection.