She asked me to bend my knees out to the sides and place my heels together.
“Like frog’s legs,” I said, but she ignored me, intent on her work.
She ripped out the hair from right underneath. I hadn’t even considered that such a thing would be possible.
When she’d finished, she asked me to lie normally again and then pulled down the paper pants.
She smeared hot wax onto the remaining hair and ripped it all off triumphantly.
“There,” she said, removing the gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand, “now doesn’t that look so much better!”
She passed me a hand mirror so I could look at myself. “But I’m completely bare!” I said, horrified.
“That’s right, a Hollywood,” she said. “That’s what you asked for.”
I felt my fists clench tight, and shook my head in disbelief.
I had come here to start to become a normal woman, and instead she’d made me look like a child.
“Kayla,” I said, unable to believe the situation I now found myself in, “the man in whom I am interested is a normal adult man.
He will enjoy sexual relations with a normal adult woman. Are you trying to imply that he’s some sort of pedophile?
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