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Nurse Jones Goes Pubic
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
From: [email protected]
Subject: Nurse Jones goes pubic
>From Nurse Jones,
Okay. Here I sit, back from Atlanta. Traveling and partying
continuously is hard on me. It was the wild celebrations of MLK
day that did it to me. I caught a cold. So I'm sucking on a Smith
Brother and reading over my unanswered mail and wondering about
pubic hair.
Someone posted about this, and before I knew it I was lost in
thought. Lost mainly because it's unfamiliar territory. But I
also have some concrete advice to offer on the subject, so I
guess I'd better speak; I might save someone some trouble.
Here's my experience with depilatory.
And then I'll tell you why I'm obsessive about it. The big
unarticulated question about pubic hair.
First things first.
Jay found a depilatory for me by reading the blurbs in the boxes
at the drug store. This one claimed to be safe and gentle _and_
had no warnings about staying away from Petticoat Junction.
I didn't think about it at the time, but the absence of a warning
might not have been the best of reasons for using that particular
brand. But I did and it worked.
I don't remember the brand, but it was pink, came in a tube like
toothpaste, and smelled like chemicals. Yucky. A bit like a home
permanent only stronger. It took a long shower after and a lot of
skin conditioner and some mental readjustment before I felt
normal about myself.
I bet there isn't a nickel's worth of difference between any of
the depilatorys. Regardless of what they say on the instructions.
I really lucked out the first time. Left it on the right amount
of time and it worked perfectly. My skin was a little sensitive
after, though. My skin looks as though it should be delicate and
sensitive, but I'm amazingly resistant to chemical irritants for
some reason. Tough as an old boot, in fact.
I *did* keep it off the actual naughtybits, though. Membranes are
a no-no, I think, here.
I just noticed the last 5 -- now 6 -- paragraphs started with the
word "I". I guess the world is a bit Maggie-O-Centric when it
comes to pubic hair....
One MAJOR point: On a later occasion I didn't leave it on long
enough -- or maybe I wasn't careful enough in spreading it (I
have variously used a metal nailfile, a butter knife, and my
fingers, although I hate having my hands smell yucky. As it is, I
come home smelling of latex and clorox from work.) Anyway, a few
stubborn hairs were left. I plucked a couple and the follicles
started to bleed. So I tried shaving the few remaining ones off.
I'm such a perfectionist. BIIIIIG Mistake. Maybe I should say:
That was a little rash?
Anyway, I was better again in a week or so.
Normally, shaving doesn't have that effect on me. My skin was
especially vulnerable, I guess.
I recommend patience. Let your skin recover; then clean up the
stragglers.
Anyway, I kept at it with the depilatory, knocking it back
whenever it started to re-emerge.
And here comes Important Fact #2:
After a little over a month of regular use, my follicles
fatigued (whatever) and stopped trying to regrow hair. What *did*
regrow became fine and sparse and *very* easy to depilate in one
application. It took more than a few weeks for it to recover, and
was sparse in regrowing at first. For a while there, I wondered
if I would ever be able to face my gynecologist again. I don't
know if permanent suppression of regrowth is possible this way,
but it is a concern. Or a feature. I have heard of other people
experiencing this problem, too, but nothing permanent. And it
wasn't the, um, bikini line that was the target area in that case.
Ingrown hairs? I had one when Jay (my SO) was plucking me, but
none with depilatory. I guess a comment about mileage varying is
appropriate. Plucking is *way* too much work unless you have a
very patient SO. And a topical anesthetic to start you off.
Nowdays I clip it short and bleach it until it is invisible with
Jolen Creme Bleach for facial hair. Which has the Nurse Jones
Seal of Approval (tm). It's very gentle, and doesn't require
frequent touchups. Plus there's no stubble trubble.
Anyway, with bleach I have the visual impact that Jay is looking
for, but I (we) do miss the silky feeling of being -- well, you
know. Especially when we're, um... shutup Maggie. Lots of
conditioner softens the hair, but still it's not quite the
same.... A good, low-maintenance compromise, though.
Plus I had a little electrolysis around the edges this summer
just to neaten things up. The electrologist (they call themselves
that -- like it was a science or something) didn't even comment
on my ring. (Phew.)
Anyway, that's my 2 cents.
-*-
Now about *why* I obsess over my pubic hair. I just realized that
I have seen several posts on *how* to get rid of it and not a
peep about motivations.
I still think about my pre-pubescent (near?) molestation by my
cousin. I keep picking at it. It won't heal. That was my first
sexual experience, and it was before I had pubic hair. For those
that haven't followed that ancient thread, I blocked out the
memory for years afterward -- until after I had gone through
puberty.
It was not a wholly bad experience. In fact, at the time, insofar
as an eight-year-old is qualified to judge, it was wonderful. I
now know it was premature, but *then* it was pure wonderment.
As a consequence of this thread and all the comments I've heard,
I've taken fresh looks at my feelings about that experience, and
I realize that when the memory returned I attached a special
significance to it. I was still a child when the memory came
back; I was frustrated with myself for forgetting how to do this
wonderful trick down in central receiving, and I wanted to
recapture that moment.
Of course, I never have.
But to my then-pubescent mind, the memory of the event had become
more marvelous than the actual event had been.
I don't attach near-mystical significance to the event anymore. I
now know, intellectually, that that is silly. But so many of my
fundamental unquestioned attitudes were programmed by that silly
unspoken belief -- before I understood it was silly -- that now
it is part of me.
Sort of like the Vietnam War. There *was* no logical reason for
being there. Just an explanation for how it got started.
But at the time... I believed I had touched the sky. Plumbed the
depths. Embraced the universe.
The orgasm seemed to go on for so long. Forever. It was cosmic
and it was eternal. And then I had forgotten -- just forgotten --
to do it again. Went back to doing little girl things.
This seems so illogical now, but when puberty happened to me, and
then later the memory of that first sexual episode came back,
I think I blamed the symptoms of puberty for my inability to
recapture this transcendent experience..
It was as if puberty had intervened and cut me off from that
perfect moment.
I remember watching my breasts develop -- I was *not* patient in
this regard -- I remember standing in front of the full-length
mirror on the back of the bathroom door and examining my body
for signs of womanhood. From all angles. I was surprised when I
realized a down of pubic hair had crept on without my notice.
And later, I was horrified when my period started. I still feel
somebody owes me a full explanation. And an apology.
My midwestern mother did the minimum. She has probably never
recovered from her own menarche.
So somehow I have always seen the symptoms of puberty -- which
appeared during the time the memory was blocked out -- as an
obstacle. Something that happened during my memory lapse --
something that intervened and prevented me from going back to
recapture that tantalizing moment.
On some level, I still think of my adult body as this dirty,
bloody, coarse, hairy thing that -- when I wasn't looking --
spoiled my chances of ever going back. So I obsess over my pubic
hair.
We have a full length mirror on our closet door now. I look and I
see myself twenty years ago looking back. Pubic hair trimmed
short, bleached to invisibility, almost abnormally neat and small
from the electrolysis treatments.
I would like to get rid of it so I could go back to a Very Important
Moment. Silly, but that's it.
I would like to go back and undo puberty.
Of course that's a motivation, not a literal truth.
I wouldn't *really* like to undo it. I enjoy puberty too much.
But there is, at my core, a missed opportunity and the path back
was somehow blocked by puberty.
And of course my naked prepubescent mons is the most obvious
thing to associate with that lost orgasm, and my pubic hair the
most obvious culprit that intervened to prevent it's recapture.
-*-
So. Is this a possibility? Depilating is a thread that won't die
on ASB. Is there a reason for this? Maybe, for any one of a
thousand reasons, we are trying to go back to an important
moment. To recapture. To confront. To exorcise.
Maybe it isn't just the silky sensations, the slithery showersex,
the aesthetic appeal. Maybe there's more.
In the meantime, I will continue my research.
Nurse Jones,
Working on,
um, that's *in*
the private sector.
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