A New Devious Chapter

I do enjoy time by myself.  Time to work, and parse through my thoughts.  To clean, and cook, and bake, and let my creative process start putting a project together.  I love to read, and listen to whatever I can at the same time, trying to keep my mind as stimulated as possible, and absorb as much as I can. The easiest way to explain my spiritual beliefs is by saying I'm Pagan.  I practice Magick, and believe in the old Gods.  I however, do not take my energy from them, but from all the living things in the world.  I borrow a little of the excess put off by everything around me, and work with that. I swear, this is relevant with where I'm going. Now, when I'm spending my time alone, I start to get tired around 2200.  I usually spend the last hour or so before bed putting together anything I need for the next day, cleaning up my things that got taken out, showering, and finally passing out. If I'm spending time with a friend or two, I usually have energy b

It's very uncommon for me to find one partner that can keep up with how much sex I actually want.  Most of them can last long enough for me to really start getting turned on, and then can't go another round, or they simply don't want to fuck as often as I want to. And that's cool, really. The simple solution to this is just having more than one partner, but here's the catch; I generally don't want to play with more than one person at a time. I've never been one of the people that fantasized about threesomes, or orgies.  When they finally started happening in my late teens, I found that they were usually just not my thing. The easiest reason to explain is that I'm straight.  I don't want to do anything sexual with another female, and if the male partner I'm with is also straight, chances are he's going to want another girl there, and he'll probably be dumb and want me on the other girl.  It was the case in my first few threesomes.

A bit of a warning, this will be a rambling coredump of thoughts, and might take a bit of reading over to process completely. A year ago I was not me. I had no confidence in myself, no inspiration, and felt like the biggest failure in the world.  I was in an absolute rut that I had no idea how to get out of, and I hated it.  To top it off, I was in a relationship that had me feeling lower and lower all the time, like I was being used, and just a convenient afterthought. Ten months ago Thrax dumped me over the phone, not listening to a word I said, and giving his usually myriad of excuses through the thing.  I could tell he just couldn't remember his stories, and while I was torn apart, and needed some kind of static aspect to my life as I made the decision to change everything else, this couldn't have been better for me. I remember hating the idea of it.  Fighting it being the truth, even though I knew all the bullshit I had been through.  Having crying fits, and

I'm into a lot.  It's generally easier to talk about my limits or what I'm not into than explain everything I do enjoy. However, I'm not always craving all of it, and I expect no partner to dig everything that I do.  It's part of what makes each of us fun, and a new experience with all the things we can do together, with however many partners. There are of course, things I do always want.  Things that no matter who I'm with, I look forward to.  I want force.  No matter what role I happen to be in at the time.  I want that unbridled desire, that puts us both into a feral display of lust.  It's something I need in order to enjoy any sort of play or sex. However, cravings for pain, bondage, blood, power exchange, and any number of other things can come and go with my mood, and especially my partners.  When I know what fun I can have with someone, what they enjoy, and what we dig the most with one another, my tastes will change to want that more. It'

My love of pain and body modification goes pretty far back.  I remember being rather young, and being told that tattoos hurt, and the process, and not caring, and thinking about the ones I would get in the future, and already considering my body canvas. I remember doing martial arts, and taking extra pain, sitting in submission holds until the time ran out, because I knew I would win anyway. And yet, there are things I cannot do, or see. When I get pierced, I cannot watch the needle enter my skin.  I'm not nervous, I just for some reason don't want to see something going through my skin.  Once it is through, I can look down at the needle without issue, and don't jump at the point of piercing. At a more extreme point, is hook suspension.  Massive sharp pieces of metal, penetrating flesh, then being hooked to chains, and pulling one's body from the earth. I used to not be able to even look at it.  From flesh hooks to flight, I couldn't see, or panic internal

I was perusing Tumblr the other day, and found a picture of a woman's throat with a piece of string wrapped around it.  It struck me with an incredible amount of meaning, and symbolism about the collars we use to define our dynamics. The string was nothing special.  A simple piece of twine, but it got me thinking.  It was similar to how some people would tie a string around their finger to remember to do something.  Something they look at, and touch, and can keep the idea in their head. However, in this case it wasn't around the woman's finger.  It was at her throat.  A vital, and vulnerable area.  A part of the body that in the wrong hands, could make us lose our consciousness, cripple, or even kill us. And we hand that over to someone we trust.  Someone who wouldn't harm what we give, but will protect it. It doesn't matter what is wrapped around a woman's throat.  It could be an elaborate silver collar, engraved and delicate, or something as simple as

While life is fairly calm right now, I'm finding myself flailing to get caught up with everything coming up. Performances are coming up, and I need to find the motivation to dance more.  I know that once I turn on the music and devote time to it, I'll be fine, and find my addiction to wiggling again, but it seems thrown away right now. Getting everything started to begin making costuming is taking longer than anticipated, which I should have realized.  It sometimes feels like I'm failing for an impossible result. While I feel inspired to work on things, they are often not the right things.  There is so much I need to do lately, and even though I should be playing with chain and fabric, I am compelled toward drawing.  Which I manage to finish quickly, but I need to figure out a way to balance my projects that need to happen, with what I want to make. I'm feeling restless, and off.  I need a few days away from home I think.  To really figure out how I want to hand

Limits are important.  I will never think that having limits makes someone weak, or boring.  I myself have own share of them, some out of preference, and some for psychological reasoning that I simply need to keep out of my play to have me stay happy and content while with another person. I am always sure to consider someone else's limits when playing with them, so they can stay comfortable with me, and know they will be just as respected and I would want from them. When I have a more "permanent" dynamic though, I hand myself over, limits and all. I know, I know, cue the no-limit slave arguments. Seriously though, who is going to cut off someone's arm?  Or who would give themselves to someone where that might be a concern?  If you're going to engage in a serious dynamic, I would hope that you've spent the time to build respect between each other, developed trust, and care deeply about one another. And part of that means even surrendering your limits

I fear stagnation.  In every aspect of my life. I need regular change, and break from any routine.  I don't want any part of my life to become so predictable that I can walk myself through myself through my day. It's why I cycle through so many different art mediums.  I don't want to burn out on any of them, so I will jump from one to another, to keep myself inspired, and in love with all of them. I need adventure.  To leave the house, and wander the woods, or something away from home, even just for an hour. New recipes, things to learn, all aspects of life need change and evolution. Including sexy time. I hate the idea of sex being the same.  Considering all the kink I'm into (And I in no expect one partner to share every kink that I do) sex should never become routine. However, my last two relationships both had sex stagnate into the same five minute script.  To the point where I could almost tell where my exes hands would move, how their breathing would

Thrax used to just call me a tank. I can take a hell of a beating, and enjoy every second of it. No, really.  To the point where people watching would fear that I would have serious injury or death, and a minute or so later, I'd completely walk it off like it never happened. Most sadists try to call my bluff, and I've wound up wearing out more than one without coming close to my limit. To top it off, it takes a lot to mark me up, and I heal incredibly quickly. I was made for pain. Do I expect anyone else to take the amount of pain I do?  Oh fuck no.  I'd never have anyone take the beating I can, and it often keeps me from indulging in my own sadistic desires, because I crave someone with my own tolerance to rip to shreds. And I don't fault anyone with a lower tolerance than myself.  I'm fairly numb to sensation because of my high pain tolerance.  We all have our strengths, and quirks, and things that can make each of us fun to play with. Now, I tend to

The good: My brother dumped the cunt he was seeing!  We've only been trying to get them to break up for six of the seven years they've been together!  I get my brother back.  This is fantastic, because my brother is one of the only blood relatives I have who I really care about. I had a bonfire over the weekend, and got to spend time with some good friends, and a few people I hadn't seen in a while.  There was lots of silliness, wiggling, drums, fire, cigars, and positive energy that I've needed lately.  Lux came by, and after spoiling him with good food, and lots of fire, we snugglefucked for hours, then got way less sleep than we should have. I'm finally starting to make a bit of a dent in my project list, and it's seeming somewhat manageable.  Dance classes are starting soon, and the girls my mom works with all want chainmaille jewelry from me, which means everything is getting started.  It's just the kick I need to stay inspired. The bad: My pare

After so many posts about the workings of my brain lately, it's time for a real world update. I've moved out of the apartment with Thrax.  I couldn't stand being there anymore, with him either ignoring me, being an ass, moments of being apologetic, and hearing how insecure his girl is.  I have moved back in with my parents (I know, I said I wouldn't) because three weeks of not talking to them was a reality check that they needed. They're actually being encouraging, though my father is still fairly clueless about my life.  It's not something I'm surprised about, but so far they're being much better than they ever have been. I'm also swamped with projects, be it sewing, drawing, crochet, or chain maille.  I love being able to hop between mediums, and stay inspired to work on all of it.  April is entirely devoted to getting through as much as possible, because I've got quite a few performances in May. Being back here also lets me start teach

I grew up with the normal over-protective parents.  Worried about the idea of their child having sex, and how responsibly they would go about it. Well, I'm the youngest, with an older sister who is drastically more overweight than I am.  Between that, and my older brother threatening any boy that looked at her, she never even had a boyfriend until she was graduated from High School. I was a nerd though.  Tiny, petite, and able to hold my own, I almost exclusively had male friends, and they were nearly all older than me. So, my mother decided to pump into my head at a young age that boys only wanted to fuck me, and couldn't possibly be friends with me.  That sex outside of a relationship was bad, and that wanting sex as a female was wrong. Well, yes, a lot of my male friends wound up wanting to fuck me.  I however, had no problem telling them I wasn't interested, and a good number of my male friends were just that.  They had no issue just being friends, and they'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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