earwax. I cannot explain this fascination to you for I myself cannot explain or rationalize this
turn on. Though the origins and fascination both are the greatest mysteries of my earthly life, I
know not of them, of this cruel mistress of the auditory canal. All I know is that since I was
12, I have had this monster within, and when she roars, she roars for.....earwax. I am truly
enslaved by the shackles of the hammer, anvil, and stirrup, and shall forever be the chattel of
the waxy ear nectar I call.....ambros-ear. Though words can never do my cruel mistress the
justice she deserves, I shall do my very best to describe to you that which possesses me, that
which I crave......Ambros-ear.
I usually start with my favorite ear, my left ear, insert index finger,
dig....dig.....deeper....deeper,,,,,,sensing....sensing....whoa, movement, I've struck something, I
feel the edge, it's huge, I must snare it on my finger nail tip,,,,,,ahhhhhhh GOT IT! Now for
the extraction, closer, closer, ahhh, ok, I've got it: an HUGE golden nugget of ambros-ear,
waxy, and crisp yet juicy. And now, for my fix. Index finger in motion, make sure no one is
looking, when the film gets to the A-bomb exploding they will all be captivated, B-29......Enola
Gay......Hiroshima.......20,000 feet.......I AM BECOME AMBROS-EAR, SHATTERER OF WORLDS.
Uh....uh.....AHHHHHHHH!! The sweet sour smell of all smells. My love, my life. Ok, thump it on
the floor and dig again.
When I'm alone....the mistress is still there, forever commanding me to her will and whim. Ah, the
capriciousness, but, ah, the nectar of the inner ear. I am not man but slave, and slave I shall
gladly be, for no man knows the power nor the pleasure that my monsteress provides and I obeyingly
submit, loving my submission, yearing for....Ambros-ear.