This may sound odd, but I looked at my nipple rings and thought, "Well, at least I still have those.This may sound odd, but I looked at my nipple rings and thought, "Well, at least I still have those." Stupid, I know, but for some reason I was reassured by the thought of them as the last vestige of the "old me" even though I should logically regard them as the earli- est symbols of the "new me." Maybe I just think of them the only part of me that hasn't been taken away. Jesus, I don't know. I don't know what to think. J came out of the shower and stood behind me with his arms around me as I looked into the mirror. I asked him how he could possibly like the way I looked, and immediately felt an erection growing against my back. I guess I really don't need more of an answer than that. It turns him on. Even though I hate it, aspects of it turn me on, too. The embarrassment, for example. Every time he does something I think I hate, he reminds me that what I am feeling is, ultimately, embarrass- ment, and then he asks for it as a gift. He asks me to let myself feel it, let it come out. For some reason, that diverts my feelings of resentment into something that becomes erotic. Usually. I don't know. Over the previous few days, I had come to assume that it was the simple visual impact of my hairlessness that turned J on, but it seems it's more complex than that. What was just as important was that he knew I was stunned by what he had done to me and would be shocked again when I saw myself for the first time. My mental state was at least as important to him as my physical appearance, and the expres- sion on my face (frozen there during my orgasm) had expressed exactly the mental state that turned him on so. During that session J had been holding back out of concern for the tenderness of my previously inviolate rear portal, but something about the way I looked in the mirror at the moment of my orgasm (he later said) caused him to lose control--although I wouldn't have known if he hadn't told me. |