Sunday, February 23, 2014

Warm and Fuzzy

So, I'm typing this fresh from Lux leaving the apartment.  It won't get posted for a week, but I'll explain that later.  I want to type up about the last couple days while it's all vivid still.

This is the first Valentine's day I've had single in a very long time.  While it didn't get me down, it was still a little odd to think about.  Thrax would be at work, and then leaving as soon as possible to go to PA, so I'd be completely alone for most of the day.

Well, Lux is also slightly more recently single.  A while back he had mentioned that he was upset that I was leaving before Valentine's, and when I asked, he said I would have made a good distraction from all the emotional stuff that he'd be likely dealing with.

Then I wound up staying, and took this job upon myself to be his distraction.  I didn't think of it much, up until the night before.  However would I keep a hot sadist with a sex drive as high as my own distracted throughout the day, with something only his for Valentine's?

I fought with my brain so incredibly hard, kicked my dysmorphia to the side, and nearly shut down, but I took a series of pinup inspired shots going from fully clothed, to only wearing striped thigh highs, and knee high heeled boots.  They got sent to him randomly throughout the day, so he would be distracted not only by content, but by the anticipation of wondering when the next one would show up.  All this while he's at work.

He was a fan.  Which has helped me work around my dysmorphia, at the very least while I'm with him.  We agreed to hang out last night once he was out of work, and he would show his appreciation.  We made the deal of a beating, a fucking, and ALL THE CUDDLES.

Yes, that's right, all of them.

Who am I to argue with a hot sadist who wants to give me these things?

While waiting for him to get out of work, a friend named Felix started drunk texting me about how he has been in love with me forever, and wants to end up with me.  He spilled his heart out about how he didn't come to my going away party because he wouldn't be able to handle saying goodbye, and all manner of other things.

This is just what I needed, while waiting for a man to walk through my door which I intended to fuck within five minutes of saying "Hello" to.

And so he did, and so we did.  He hurt me with such appreciation and fun while we were at it that I was absolutely at peace.  We really are the type that if we start kissing there is very little chance it won't progress to fucking.  He had intended to beat me first, but well, we got distracted by each other.  I wouldn't change it for the world though.  Afterward we grabbed food, and actually made it through a movie without it turning into more sex.  He then decided he was staying the night, and I was not one to argue.

A sexy man wants to sleep in my bed with me?  Nooooooo, I'd never want that.

He also said he wasn't allowed to leave until after he had given me a proper beating.
This sadist is so good to me.

We continued the night by saying all the horrible thoughts we can't say in public that just make us giggle.  We fucked, snuggled, kissed, held hands, and were damn adorable together.  This morning, it all went just the same, and while we were watching nerdy things on the internet (Cause he's hot, kinky, has a horrible mind, likes to fuck as much as I do, AND is a nerd.  Be still my heart.) he says "After this, I need to beat you."

Yes, yes you do!

I then proceed to be attacked with a series of floggers, crops, and a pair of very strong hands.  Lots and lots of fantastically thuddy pain that I feel radiate through me with such a happy impact.  Quick strikes from the crops while holding me, and I nuzzle into his chest.  Being struck time and again until my flesh is so red and oversensitive I can't stand being hit anymore.  Then he starts digging his hands into all those lit up areas, which feels amazing.  Sometimes he grabs onto me while he's close enough for me to kiss him, with every bit of appreciation for what he's doing to me, curling up into him to show that I'm still good, and that he's making me happy.

At one point, I look in his eyes and see the sparkle of the sadist.  Where he is in the back seat, and the sadist is driving, happy with the challenge I provide him.  Gleeful that he can lay into someone as hard as he can me.  I see that, and know I'm taking enough to really let him have fun.

When we finish, he holds me, and we snuggle more.  He runs his fingers over all the sensitive marks, giggling at how they make me quiver, and how it changes my breathing.

I really love the feeling of over sensitive skin.  It's similar to my love of sore piercings.

And that, I absolutely didn't want to have end.  I wanted him to stay there, and curl up with me, making me twitch like that, watching as my skin turned back to pale, and all the heavy marks rose.  Unfortunately though, he had to, and now I am left alone to type this.

So, anyway, Lux and I are motivating each other to post on our respective blogs regularly.  We are making sure that we both post every Sunday.  I have included a new link to his blog on the right.  Read his stuff as well, as he is wonderfully bright, and remarkably sexy.  Especially when it comes to his science.

I'm gonna go curl up in a ball and enjoy the rest of my endorphins now.  Weeeeeeeeeee!

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Forcing Motivation

It's no lie, I should be cleaning right now.
Or at the very least typing here about my adventures at Wicked Faire last night.  That'll probably be later today.  Maybe a video post.

But no, not right now.
I just found out my contract got dropped for the military.  Something I was looking forward to, to travel, and learn, and grow, and do something amazing.  To truly start my life in a way it should be.  And with a phone call, it all got taken away.

So I curled up in a ball for a few minutes.  My buzz from the night before died, and I was mopey.  I still am.  I felt like everything was gone.

I hate how my luck often works.  How every good thing, or opportunity fails.
I sat on that for a bit.

And then I got up, and immediately applied to perform at a few venues, and remembered what materials I have here to make things.

This is not the end.
This is the beginning.  I will do what I love.  I will create.  I will dance.  I will be something.

It also means I'm back on the market, for whatever that's worth.

Let's see how this turns out.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

What I See

I'm fairly certain that I mentioned this in my old blog, but I want to go into more detail with it here.

Everyone is their own worst critic when they look in the mirror.  They see their flaws, and everything they wish they could change.

Then there are people like me.

The ones who when they look in the mirror, their mind actually distorts what they see, or processes it differently or whatever the fuck that happens.  And they find themselves hideous.

I've got body dysmorphia.  Hardcore.  Every day is an argument in my head for me to not hide under a pile of blankets, covered in giant sweaters, and never let someone look at me.

But that's not exactly the healthiest way to live.
And I try not to let anything in my brainbox keep me from living the way I truly want to.

So I still get out of the house, and I talk to people, and I live without it stopping me from most things.

It takes a lot.

And I know I must be attractive.  I have friends who tell me so, and get random messages often enough online, and people still want to fuck me.

Then I stand in front of the mirror, and I hate it.

I try to help it with clothes that fit me well.
Then I remember how difficult a figure I have.  With being short, having a short torso, a high waist, big rib cage, small breasts, and an extreme waist to hip ratio, I am difficult to clothe to say the least.  And that just makes me feel like a freak show.

And then I see video of me dancing, and I see my stretch marks, and extra skin.  I know I can cover myself up, but I always find the dancers that do tend to stick out more, and that'll just make me feel worse.

When I'm out and dressed up, I try to not freak out by putting down others in the back of my head.
"She looks so frumpy"
"That so doesn't fit her"
"She looks like Skeletor"
"I'm pretty sure I have a nicer ass than she does"

I never say it out loud, but it keeps me calm, and sometimes I can fake the physical confidence enough.

Then sometimes, I'm out at a faire, or a LARP, and I start dancing.
And damnit, I know how to shake my ass.
And it clears my head.
And I just don't care about how I look.

That's when people stare, and at first I think they're tearing me down, but then I notice they're checking me out.  They make comments about how good I look dancing, and it starts to make it all go away.  I walk over to the person I'm with, and if it's a guy, they're all over me.  Showing off how proud they are to belong to me, while everyone else is apparently struck with lust.

And I never believe it.  I should, I know I should.
But for those moments while I'm dancing, I don't hear that voice saying all those bad things.  I don't wonder if the men in my life are embarrassed to be around me due to how I look.

It's so liberating from everything.

Sometimes, all you need to do is dance.
Maybe someday it'll leak out to kill the voices the rest of the time.

Monday, February 10, 2014

A Proper Introduction

If you aren't coming here from my old blog, here's a little about me.  Just in case you have, this may be an update for you.

I am Loki.  Or Aislin, Rebecca, Demon, or a myriad of other names.  I almost collect them at this point.

I belly dance, crochet, make chainmaille, cook, bake, draw, sew, and enjoy all matter of nerdy hobbies.  Violence is fun to me.  Making mischief is one of my favorite things to do. 

I spoil my friends, and will go to the ends of the earth for them.

The little things mean the most to me.

Right now, I am most happily single, and trying to make my life as amazing as it should be.

Running around in the woods brings me peace.

I am a mommy!  I have a five year old little girl who is an absolute clone of me.  All of my attitude, spite and wit.  She's gonna be so dangerous when she gets older.

I'm also a mono-amorous, polysexual, sadomasochistic, primal switch.  Sex is very important to my life, keeps me sane, and I am often told I am in fact a nymphomaniac.  Kink is something I am always exploring, as my tastes ebb and flow.  My play isn't always sexual, and as someone heterosexual, I am still able to play with women in a non-sexual fashion.

I hope you enjoy hearing of my adventures, my discoveries, and all manner of trouble-making.

Friday, February 07, 2014

Turning Point

For those of you who know me, or kept up with my old blog, you have an idea of what has happened, and who I am.

If not, I'll get around to an introduction later.

Last weekend was supposed to be my going away party.  I had planned to go to Colorado earlier this week, and do body piercing, and spend time with other friends, and dance, and get into shape for the military.

I went up to the frozen north, to spend the last weekend I would have in Jersey with my true family.  The people I have found, and who have stuck around, and shown themselves to truly care about me.  I had also invited a friend, Lux, up too.  He's a newer addition to my life, but he's proven himself to be a good one, and I felt like he needed to meet my family, because he would fit in well.

The whole weekend was wonderful.  I got to run around and have little silly adventures, watch shows we all love to nerd over, beat on each other with latex weapons, and get everyone so much more drunk than they intended.  That morning, I told Lux I would get him drunk and take advantage of him.  My skill of getting people more drunk than they are normally able to was exercised, as Lux, Thrax, and I sat around a fire, talking of all things.

As we spoke, I felt my mind free itself of any attachment I still had to Thrax.  I kept thinking of how he treated me, and how much I didn't deserve it, but should have been treated better.  I thought of how happy I was at that point, with him not being a significant person in my life.

As Lux went to bed, and got the office ready for us both to stay in there together, Thrax went to hug me.  When he's drunk he can get very emotional, and with my leaving, I let him have the hug.  Then he went to kiss me goodnight, which I had thought would be a simple friendly smooch.
Then he tried to shove his tongue down my throat.
I pushed him off me, and he pinned me to the side of the house, and tried again.
Lux watched through the window, letting me handle it, but ready to come back outside if it was necessary.
Again I pushed him off of me, and he pleaded with me to allow the kiss.  I told him I wouldn't, and reminded him of his girlfriend.  He responded by trying yet another time.
I shoved him off me, and told him to go to bed.  He looked at me like he would cry.  As though I had shattered his heart, and was leaving him alone, with nothing.
And at this point, that's his problem.

I found at that moment, any bit of attraction to him I may have still had, was gone.  He has no idea what he wants, and runs entirely off of impulse and emotion.  He won't talk about how he feels unless he is drunk, and then if he admits to anything, and you don't agree with him, he starts attacking to make himself feel better.

And so I went into the office where I would be sleeping, with a mind cleared of any past attachment.  I curled up with Lux, told him what had happened, he mentioned seeing it, and we stayed there for a moment while I processed through what had just occurred.

Then I proceeded to fuck the shit out of Lux.  In a positively feral display of desire and lust, we tore each other apart, and with a freshly cleared mind, I felt myself able to submit again, and so I handed him some control, for the first time since I had surrendered to Thrax.  It felt natural, and he took that, and pressed for a little more, but didn't expect everything.

We awoke looking as though we'd both been mauled by bears, and we still do.

It was a very enlightening thing for me.  Which has left me wanting to step away from the part of my life I shared with Thrax, and embrace my own life now.

So this is what truly moving on feels like.