If my asshole could talk, it would thank you for the kind attention it’s received over the past few weeks. After recounting my depilation tribulation, I received a lot of advice… and some of it was actually good.
Some of it was not. In particular, the suggestion that I should take an epilator to my asshole was misguided (at best). My hunch is readers who made the suggestion either actively hate me, or they haven’t actually attempted the method of follicular obliteration they endorsed. I used an epilator on my pussy once and almost lost my labia. I do not recommend it.
A few attentive readers noted some confusion over what, exactly, I was shaving. Yes, “Asshole” is my cat’s name. While I have a pussy named Asshole, that was not the pussy or the asshole I intended to reference. For the record, I have not shaved the cat, but I suspect shaving the cat might be easier than shaving my asshole… I imagine the risk of blood loss is roughly the same.
A few readers informed me that because of my post, when they shaved their own assholes, they found themselves thinking of me. One reader thought of me in the midst of suffering shaving-related-asshole-itch.
I would say that I’m flattered, but I’m not sure that’s true.
If anyone is interested, my asshole is currently smooth, hairless, and as sexy as an asshole can be (which isn’t very sexy at all, really).
I’m also pleased to report I’m working on a new project. Currently, I’m in the process of writing and illustrating first aid instructions for the proper administration of an emergency asshole tourniquet. It’s my sincere hope the instructions are never needed, but if you find yourself in a situation saying “Ouch! My asshole!” rest assured, there’s help for you.
Dumb Domme… the first name in asshole emergencies.