Fur a Change

A long time ago, when I first began to actively explore my interest in aspects of BDSM with the one who pretended to be a Dominant, one hurdle we faced was in knowing just HOW it was that this D/s thing is supposed to be done.  Like most people coming into the lifestyle for the first time, we had no real life models, and our access to decent information was far more limited than it would be if we were starting out today. 

Questions about how to do Dominance or how to do submission weren't likely to show up in Ann Landers' daily newspaper column.  When we came across bits of information, we grabbed it like drowning souls lost at sea.  And that is how I first came to the practice of shaving my pubic hair.  From what we could see; from what we knew; that was how everyone did it, and so, being the pretend Dominant that he was, he decreed that I too would shave my girl parts. 

It had a sort of delicious wicked feeling to it in the beginning.  It seemed very "out there."  I remember being concerned about the first visit I ever made to the gynocologist after I went bare, and I remember moments of anxiety when I would go to the gym or the spa -- what would people think?  What would people say?  The truth is no one ever SAID anything, and I doubt very seriously that anyone ever stayed up at night wondering what my shaved crotch might mean.  Please!

I've shaved my pubic hair for well over ten years now.  It has come to be "the way it is."  I don't think about it much anymore, and I surely don't worry who will see or what they will think.

Master has never indicated that He cares.  One way or the other.  I am pretty sure that He is among the vast throng of folks who do not give the state of my pubic hair a second thought.

Lately, I've stopped shaving it.  Keeping it bare is work, and it got to be something that I was doing BECAUSE I was doing it.  Each time I got in the shower to de-fur, I wondered why I was spending the extra time on something that absolutely no one cared about.  As we went through that last round of surgery and recovery, I found I had less and less time to attend to those personal details, and so I quit. 

The world did not end.  The hair grew and grew, and it is now reaching the point where I am reminded what it was like so many years ago.  It seems softer than it was when I was younger.  Not as curly.  Surely, it is grayer. 

Having it there does not impact Him or us in any way that I can see.  Interestingly, I am enjoying the feel of it -- late at night, it is somehow comforting to be able to feel the soft downiness of my own privates.  It is like having my own soft, fuzzy stuffed animal right where I can always find it. 

There's no point to all of that, really.  It just is.  Another change.  Another thing that I once thought meant something that really didn't mean anything at all.  I've regrown my fur and the world goes around just as it always has.

swan