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Unsure *Possible Triggers?*

I need to talk a bit about rape.  Rape, consent, and what those aren't. I can admit with full honesty that I have been raped twice in my life.  Once when I was six, and again when I was twenty-two.  Both times I told the other person "No" told them to stop, fought back, and was very clear in how much I didn't want it to happen.  It however, did, and I have lived beyond it, and try not to let it affect me. However, it does.  In what might be the best way possible. I never want to exist in a situation where me clearly and straightly saying "NO" doesn't end what is happening.  It doesn't matter what space I'm in, or what the scene I'm a part of involves, I will come back to earth if something is a problem, and it will be very noticeable. And if you can't respect that, well, I probably shouldn't have played with you to start.  Have fun getting your ass kicked as soon as I have the chance. Sometimes though, for everyone, we make a

What's in a Name?

I've always gone by many names. My "real" name is actually the least common of all of them. The most common one however, I never thought I would consider putting away. Many of my friends have their own names for me.  We consider it a term of endearment, and I tend to use alternate names for most of them.  Names we have adopted to be more fitting to who are. At certain venues, I use names I've chosen.  My stage name has become something I use at all faires and events of similar nature. If on the rare chance I use my birth name, I prefer to use it fully.  I dislike how it shortens, and find it childish.  There is one particular shortening of it that I absolutely despise, and have hit people for calling me by it. I even have a name I give when I simply don't want to exist.  My name when causing trouble, so it doesn't get linked back to me. Whether it be Aislin, Demon, Spike, Jocelyn, Vlos, Chaos, Trouble, or a myriad of others, the most common, the o

Love Languages Part Two

While I may give love through service, it's not how I prefer to receive it. Having people do things for me makes me uncomfortable.  I hate asking for help, and I dislike big gifts without being able to do something in return. How do I prefer to be shown love? Touch, and time. I want to be able to curl up in your lap, and feel your hand on my back.  To feel your arms around me, and just to hold your hand. Simple, small touches mean the world to me, make me feel like I'm actually desired, and bring me peace of mind. And while we're curled up together, I want to make memories with you.  Memories of time spent just with you.  Not on our phones, or sucked into technology.  Maybe a movie on in the background while we have a conversation that bounces around a million topics, full of horrible comments we couldn't (or rather, shouldn't) say in public. Go on adventures with me.  A car ride to nowhere, or exploring somewhere new.  I want to share these experience

Love Languages Part One

I often find that I just don't fall into categories for personalities, and can't fall into any sort of boxes like most people do. I'm just a little too weird for that apparently. Affection is especially difficult for me.  I've been stabbed in the back so many times, and had the way I show affection, or have it given to me turned around on me, that it's destroyed me a few times. Still though, there are ways that I prefer to receive and give my love for others. Sometimes falling into a box isn't such a bad things. So there are these love languages.  There's five of them, and everyone is supposed to have one or two that works best for them to feel love, or how they express it. The love languages are supposed to be: 1. Touch 2. Gifts 3. Acts of Service 4. Quality Time 5. Words of Affirmation Mine don't quite fit with how I give and receive love. When I show someone I care, first and foremost, I do it through acts of service. I like hel

Walking on Glass

Sometimes I forget how useful being a switch is. I find communication during play to be incredibly important.  That level of self awareness on the part of the bottom to inform the top what is going on is vital for play, especially when pain is concerned.  Sure, if there is power exchange, one person is putting themselves into the hands of the other, however at least in my case I trust the dominant involved to want me to enjoy what's going on.  I know that if I say something, they can choose to keep going, but I trust them to move, or make changes as necessary to have the most fun possible. Even as a top myself, I am very keyed into the responses of the bottom I am playing with, to communicate, and steer the session in the most fun way for everyone.  I want to not be the person people are only going to play with once and never again. Now, especially with my pain tolerance, I need to be clear about how I signal the top I'm playing with.  They need to know when to hit me

Hunger

There is a side to my kink, that while more familiar, is a bit less constant than my masochism. It's not quite that desire for force that I have whenever I'm playing, or fucking someone. It sleeps.  For a while anyway. When it wakes up though, it is an unshakable craving.  You can see the fire for it in my eyes, yearning for it. Oh the fun of being a switch. I'm just as much as, if not then more of a sadist than I am a masochist. My sadism is where I am most obviously primal.  In lieu of toys and tools, I prefer to tear someone apart with my bare hands.  To dig my teeth into their flesh until I know they'll wear the marks for weeks.  Ripping through their skin until they bleed for me.   Devouring them whole, like a monster. And knowing they put themselves in my hands for this purpose.  That they trust their lives to me, knowing I will leave them broken to pieces, bruised, battered, and left in shreds.  That they will ask for it.  Want me to unleash on them in

Processing Reset

I've always had an incredibly high pain tolerance. It's something I'm rather proud of, and love getting to show off. Beatings that would put others out of commission for a few days, I take as a warm up.  Nearly all kinds of pain I enjoy, and chances are that even if my limit gets hit, a moment later I'll be running around acting perfectly fine. My friends think I'm a mutant.  I'm alright with this. I've always been stubborn, and this counts into it.  I won't give up until I absolutely have to, and I will push myself to go as far as I can every time.  Top that off with a background of a lot of martial arts and getting into fights, and I was basically built to take pain. Here's the kicker though.  I don't feel gentle touches really.  Obviously I'm aware of them.  They still register to me, but don't provide real sensation.  If something is going to really feel good, it's gotta have force. I was made for masochism. Pain wake

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 th

Forcing Motivation

It's no lie, I should be cleaning right now. Creating. Adventuring. 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

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 r

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 of

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 int