This KOTW is centered around shaving, and you know, I struggled for the words on this one.
Total related aside, writing in general has been hard.
I was curious why this was a hard one for me to write on, aside from my current writer’s block issues, and have narrowed it down to it just being something I don’t give any thought. My underarm hair is getting long? I shave them. The hair on my legs is getting long and itchy? Time to shave.
There’s no associated kink for me in shaving. It’s a task to be completed. One I’m loathe to do, but feel obligated for a variety of reasons.
Yea, this is probably a classic case of society having conditioned me to believe I need to be hair free. It’s something I’ve talked about struggling with, body hair. Body hair and sex, body hair and acceptance. I wish I possessed Amy’s ability to move toward what I feel is acceptance of hair. Or the hair you started puberty with at least.
Back to shaving. I don’t fantasize about shaving. Could it be sexy given the opportunity? I think so.
I think back to staying with DomSigns and Molly. There was a night right before Eroticon started where Molly strong armed sat him down for a hair and beard trimming.
There was something… mesmerizing about watching her cut his hair. It wasn’t a shave, but with the clippers. I couldn’t look away. It was intimate in a way I couldn’t explain. Just the care with which she took in trimming and the trust he had to let her radiated. I felt a bit like a voyeur.
It made me think about allowing someone to shave a part of my body. I go for waxes regularly enough that it probably wouldn’t bother me. The issue is I’m not sure it would raise any kink flags. I’ve read many number of books where the s type allows the D type to shave their bits. I could write it…
“On the table, slut.”
She’d jumped up, scurrying to the table and spreading her legs once she was on her back. This is typically when he inspects her, his fingers trailing along her thighs to tease apart her labia so he can see the coral pink inside. She’d be wet for him because she was always wet for him.
Today, he didn’t sit down in front of her like usual.
He left her there, the cool air teasing her instead of his fingers. She stared up at the ceiling listening to the swish of fabric and running water. The urge to look and ask was strong, but she remained in place.
The feeling of something hot dropping between her thighs made her jump. She glanced down. The towel covered her from hip to hip and down to the under curve of her bum. He glanced down at her as he used a brush and bowl to whip something into a lather.
“Do you trust me?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Her cunt seemed to pulse under the towel, the flesh growing plump as she considered what he’d do next. The curly hairs that covered her vulva, black and tight, that she’d had since puberty.
He moved the towel aside and covered her in the lather. It tickled as he brushed it on sensitive skin. She bite her lip and watched the foam lay thick on her body.
A shimmer of doubt assailed her. She thought he loved her hair there, she thought he was okay with the fact that she’d kept it. She trimmed it, but had never shaved or waxed it.
“I thought…” she swallowed hard as some weird emotions surfaced.
“This isn’t about not liking your body or your hair. You are beautiful, hair or no hair.”
She hated asking, or questioning, but the need to know was important. He placed a hand in the center of her chest and held her eyes a he spoke.
“This is about trust and care; you trusting me to do something that could harm you knowing that I want to, and me demonstrating I can care for you and be gentle.”
The feeling of his palm and the depth of his words settling into her mind loosened the knot in her belly. Now the thought of the razor scraping over her skin, his hand pulling pulling her labia as the knife moves along, made her ache. She wanted that.
“I trust you.”
“Good.” He smiled softly at her before reaching for the straight razor. “Now don’t move.”
Like I said, I could write what might arouse, but isn’t necessarily my kink. Then again, everything has the potential to turn me on even if I don’t want to do it myself.