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siouxprinc


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	*i am owned by "OneForService"* *i am totally sub & totally for real.* *i think my pictures tell the story of me pretty well and Master's handiwork.* *i am here for friendship with others like me.* *my Owner has chosen to seek a second sub and i must answer inquiries regarding that.* *full disclosure: i do know difference between a genuine Dominant and a common asshole.* *-suzi 126-220-082*

1/31/2015 11:24:40 PM

note to self:
/nick

10/7/2014 1:02:02 AM

i realized that it has been 5 years since i have had even one bit of pubic hair. my Master requires my pussy to be totally bald all of the time. i must admit that this is a huge turn-on for me on many levels. 1) It is a constant reminder that i am His, my pussy is His and it is hairless for His pleasure. 2) Having no hair makes the entire area so much more sensitive. i am constantly aware of any touch whether it be from fabric, human touch, or even air or breath. 3) There is a certain humiliation of never being the equal of people who are allowed to have hair. my Master has hair, most of my friends and other Masters and Mistresses have hair, but i cannot. i never will be allowed. Whenever i am with my doctor or in a public changing place, or even in the BDSM scene, i have to be in front of others looking like a fourth grader down there.

Anyway, my Master has decided that he will make the situation permanent. i am to seek out permanent removal of all my pubic hair, either with laser removal, electrolysis or both. i am so wet knowing that all those things i mentioned above will become always and forever for me. Even if He leaves me, i will be forever marked by Him as a slave. i will wake up every morning for the rest of my life smooth and bald as a cue ball for the rest of my life. Even as an old woman, my pussy will be as a pre-pubescent.

i would love to talk to other women who've had their pubic hair permanently removed about their experience and what has worked and not worked to achieve that. i would also love to hear from Masters or Mistresses who've required the same from their slaves.

6/9/2013 10:11:32 PM

"...if my mind's tore up, my body don't care."

-Dinah Moe Humm

6/7/2013 9:46:58 PM

Well obviously:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/06/05/bdsm-better-mental-health-study_n_3390676.html

12/11/2012 7:06:37 PM

It could have at least been humiliating, but not even that was to be for the room was stark, filled only with a silent gray that she could feel like wool scratching her from the inside. There were no curious or mocking eyes and not even his would cross her as he stood motionless and blank-faced, just far enough away that she couldn’t sense the warmth of another living thing on her chilled, searching skin. She shivered, she whimpered, she sobbed, but her sound was lost. It was so disorienting to feel her lungs deflate and her ragged throat vibrate as she wailed, but only hearing fluffy silence.

She lifted her head and searched the room; the walls were too far away to see and every direction faded to black. There was only him, and at his feet was the bag of accoutrements that had once so warmed and comforted her usually unreachable soul. She knew it was going with him along with the searing touch he yielded from it. She tried to look at him, hoping for a path to pleading, but discovered his gaze focused on some abyss over her shoulder.

“At least spit on me!!” her mind screamed. She hung her head once again and the tears just could not rain fast enough to relieve the up-swell. It made her eyes feel as if they would burst. Just then she felt him nearer and a spark of hope as his finger slid under her collar. She rolled her downcast eyes apprehensively upward hoping to see a sign of thaw, but found the same far away stare. His finger curled around the collar and he gave it a muscular jerk. She gasped, expecting to be thrown to the floor, but the thick leather strap just seemed to tear away like tissue paper. Maybe it was all just paper and mist all along.

She tried to gather some dignity as she watched him pick up the bag and nonchalantly amble away. The room fell away and she found herself outside in a snowy squalor. The cold crept over the freshly naked stripe around her neck and continued to spiral around her torso and limbs to join the winter wind, carrying away the heat that kept her spirit alive. Quick-frozen and shattered, she could feel the jagged bits of her heart tinkle down through her insides and settle painfully in her joints, leaving her unable to move.

She wobbled in her tracks and fell to the pavement. Then, the wind ceased to blow and the soft, brilliant white flakes gently buried her there, she hoped forever.