It’s cold, my mind keeps trying to focus on the oriental flowers on the wall and not the pain that’s about to be inflicted upon me. This is not the kind of thing I relish, pain slut that I can be, this is the kind of pain that I have found to be necessary to keep things like razor bumps and ingrown hairs at bay. The thought of what’s to come is probably more painful than the actual act but at the same….OUCH!!! What the hell!? That was more than I was prepared for!!!

I bite down harder on the towel I smartly stuffed in my mouth wishing it was a ball gag, but then that would just be a bit too odd for my tastes. I growl (sort of) through the stiff cotton and brace myself for the next rip. I know this is worth it, but goddamn this is not fun. I keep my eyes clinched shut, I don’t want to see her prepare the next strip, but my mind won’t stop counting out the seconds or noticing the hot wax as it is placed meticulously on prepped skin. 15 seconds, that’s the average so far, 13, 14, 15, OUCH! yep, right on cue. Damnit. I wish she wasn’t so good at her job, but then again I’m just glad it’s almost over.

The girl doing the waxing barely speaks a lick of English, but sympathy is pouring out from her eyes as she tells me it is almost over in Vietnamese. 10 long minutes later she cleans up the area, puts a frozen cloth over me and says “to keep burn down” in her soft broken English. Something about the entire situation has turned me on, and I am desperately hoping she doesn’t notice.

After laying there for another five minutes, dying to touch the newly hairless skin, I am finally given the okay to get up. I was brave today. I went for all of it instead of some of it (god bless the girl for up-selling me to including the lower legs, under the arms and between the brows instead of just the Brazilian). I’m a bit frazzled, totally turned on and trying to picture the way Master’s face will look when he first sees what I’ve had done. I pay for the wax, thank the girl about a million times and quickly (awkwardly) leave the store. (Side note – do not wear jeans to this kind of thing….. wear cotton undies and a skirt or loose shorts)

I feel freer somehow, braver, more exposed and totally sexy. Shopping for a new corset is now on the list of things to get done, while I’m at it I might as well pick out some new toys for Master to use on me…. how does one simple act (okay it wasn’t so simple) make a person feel so confident?

******

48 hours later, I’m back at the mall, this time for new panties. I pass the salon where I got waxed and see the girl who did the job in the window. I immediently change paths and walk in to tell her thanks yet again. She has made a customer for life out of me. I could not be more pleased with the job! I look great, it feels great and it’s still baby smooth 2 full days later (which I knew it would be, but knowing and seeing/feeling are completely different)

******

Two weeks later and I have just a little bit of fuzz growing back, it’s cute and kind of sexy. It’s completely soft and there’s not much growing back. I can not wait for it to grow out enough to go back and get another waxing done. I’m sure it will hurt then too, but this is seriously the best thing I have ever done for myself (let’s face it, I don’t care if Master liked it or not – he loved it – I loved it, I will be doing this from here on out for ME – him liking it is just a bonus!)

I finally took the advice of so many readers and got the waxing done. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!!!!! If you want to get it done yourself but just haven’t gotten up the courage to do it, I strongly suggest you just go, get it done, if you hate it, well hair grows back and they will ALWAYS make razors so no big deal, but I bet money you’ll love it!!

–Autumn in jeans ;)