16. Chapter 16 #2
Nadine continued about her business. Like this was the most damned normal thing ever, despite my grimaces, winces, and yelps. At one point, she had to hold down my thighs as I reflexively pulled them shut in pain. She was lucky her head didn’t get vice-gripped between my knees.
“I’m going to need to get in closer on the labia. It’s the most sensitive.”
“Huh?” I cried.
A cosmetic mirror with extreme zoom and the brightest light I’d ever seen was soon shining between my legs. She was joking; she had to be. But no, my lady bits were now being examined with a magnifying mirror.
“I’m going to use these,” she happily said, showing a pair of tweezers. One by one she plucked some of the more stubborn hairs hanging around like a squatter refusing to give up their residence. Attention to detail. I’d add that to her review.
Once that part was done, she applied more wax. “Now hold your belly taut so it hurts less.”
I did as she asked, fully convincing myself there wasn’t any lower my humiliation could go. Once more, I was wrong. Disassociation was something all of us girls developed during our stint in hell.
Now would be the best time to indulge. Slip out. Float somewhere above the ceiling and wait for it to end. Surely Marcel couldn’t fault me this one time. My mind wandered down crazy lane. The mirror was still shining between my legs. To look or not to look.
How did my hair removal compare to others? What about my lady bits? How did they stack up against the rest of the UK population? Did I look normal down there?
I never realized how little I knew about my own pussy. I’d never found a reason to take a peek before. She was always covered except during shower time.
What if it wasn’t normal looking? Would she discuss my vagina with her coworkers? Did they do that? Dear Lord, I hoped not.
I was pulled back into the harsh reality of a Brazilian wax with another mind-bending painful rip of paper. The left side was proving more painful.
“Why?” I muttered.
“What was that, luv?”
“It fucking hurts more. Why?”
“Did you want a break?”
“Please, just finish up quickly, please,” I begged, feeling lightheaded.
“I’m trying. It’s taking longer than I expected. But it’s looking so good,” she said happily, like she was proud of her work. “We’re almost done. We can do the next part one of two ways. Pull your knees up to your chest and hold them tight or on all fours?”
“All fours?”
“Yeah, doggy style.”
“Why?” I asked warily, like maybe she was trying to trick me. I should have had Tori stay with me.
“We are doing the full Brazilian, right? We need access between the cheeks.”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t know which way would be best?”
I was not going to get emotional over a few stray pieces of hair on my ass. Oh God what if it was like the front?
“If I were you, I’d opt to flip over to do the backside. You may have a harder time holding your legs up with your breast size. I promise, this doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.”
She waited for me to choose, and I once more allowed myself to disassociate and rolled over. I shook violently and prayed she would be able to do this quickly. Once more, a slab of warm wax met my skin.
And for once during this entire ordeal, she told the truth. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as I thought it would, and it was over fast. I sighed in relief and turned over. Feeling shy, I pulled my T-shirt down to cover my now naked bits.
“We are done,” she exclaimed, throwing the last strip into the rubbish bin. “Ready to take a look?” She pulled the mirror back between my legs.
“Is that what I’m supposed to do? Is this like part of the evaluation process?” I asked stupidly.
She laughed. “Most people want to see the efforts of their pain.”
“Oh, okay, that makes sense.” I took a quick glance and was surprised. It did look different without all that hair. I smiled. “Not bad. Does it look normal?” I asked without thinking.
I wanted to smack myself in the head. What the hell kind of question was that? She once more humored me and chuckled.
“You know the saying, ‘No two snowflakes are exactly alike’? Well, the expression could just as easily refer to the vulva and vagina. But yours looks exactly how I imagined it would look.”
“What?”
“It’s a thing I do. I like to guess what the end results will be before I start. And while vaginas are unique, there are about seven different types. It’s quite educational. You should look it up later.”
“I’ll trust your word on that.” I went to hop down, and she placed a hand on my arm.
“We need some after-care cream.”
But before she did that, she took a hot, wet towel and removed any leftover wax.
Then she scooped up a glob of aloe and smoothed it over my entire shaved area.
Despite it all, I thanked her for the torture session.
She smiled and left me alone with my now barren lady garden.
Is it still considered a garden with no hair?
Either way, it was just the two of us once more. I examined it more thoroughly now that I was alone, where surely it was more appropriate for me to acquaint myself with this new version of me.
A knock sounded, and I scrambled to get dressed. When I opened the door, Victoria and Kinsley were on the other side. Their expressions varied between amusement and curiosity, and I laughed at their eager anticipation of my experience.
“How was it?” Victoria asked.
“Yes, give us all the details. Don’t leave anything out,” Kinsley said.
“I’m happy to say I survived, barely. It was touch and go for a minute there. Did you know there are several different ‘normal’ vulvas?”
“Really? We should compare later, at home you know,” Kinsley offered, looking around like I expected her to whip her dress up for a peek.
“I think I’ll pass. I’ll need some time alone with mine to get to know her first before I share.”
Victoria’s eyes met mine, and she burst out laughing. Before long, the three of us were laughing hysterically. We looped arms, a smile crossed my face, my heart dangerously close to bursting.