I had no idea what she looked like and I was very intimidated by her. I had always been told that no one should ever touch this sacred place, not even me. Fearing that I would touch myself by accident, I took extra care when I showered or changed my panties. What was this mysterious place that could elicit such tingly sensations? It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that I even took a peek. I laid back on my bed, with a mirror clasped tightly in my hand. I saw her in all her glory. She was just like I imagined. Neat and pretty. But I quickly put away the mirror. I felt shy looking at her. Like I was filthy for doing so. I touch her now (with permission from Mistress, of course). I began going commando so she could get fresh air. Lately, I’ve been letting her bush grow uncontrollably. I’m a huge fan of waxing. Shaving was never my favorite. I have never publicly admitted that it is presently a jungle down there. At first, I thought how very unladylike this was. But I’m actually very...
I am 5'4 and my current weight is 183 lbs. There. I said it. A lot of the time, I hate how I look. Seeing my body change like this has done a number to my self-esteem. I could get on my beloved soap box and rant about how the media pushes the image of beauty as being skinny. But I've got a different perspective to point out. I've been guilty of the eye rolling when a girl that is more slender than me complains of her weight. Like a twisted version of an upward comparison. How could it be that your weight excludes you from those who are allowed to complain about it? I am not morbidly obese. And I will never be so thin that my rib cage is visible. But this does not mean that I am not allowed to bitch about it. I want to make a conscious effort to put an end to the eye-rolling of others' weight.
I recently made some changes on my FL profile. If you've been listening to Intellectual Kink or listened to my previous post, you may be aware that I'm ready to delve into my interest in male dominants. The second step in this part of my life was to revise my profile. Aside from Twitter, it's really the only place where I maintain an online presence. It makes sense that I would advertise my desire for a Master. The messages I've received have not inspired much hope that I could someday find this unicorn-like Dom. "You can come over, clean my house, and then clean my cock with that dirty little mouth of yours." "How are you? I want to use you. Message me. I want you as my slave." Sigh. Dude, I'm still a human being. At least that second one asked how I was... Note that I won't be relying on FL messages for this endeavor. Can you at least take time to get to know me? Ugh. Delete. Yes, FL. Delete Forever.
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