A New Devious Chapter

It is no surprise shortly after meeting me to know that I love body modification.  I'm probably addicted to it in all honesty, and I have an incredibly long list of things I want to have done.  It's a mix of self expression, beauty, and each one is a new experience. I'm not quite sure why I love any of it so much though.  I mean, there's so many things to consider, but I just don't know what makes me crave it so badly, itch for it, and want to get them so constantly. Sure, there's the art.  Turning one's body into canvas is fantastic, and I love seeing someone express exactly who they are, and show that on the outside, becoming who they truly feel themselves to be.  It's absolutely beautiful, and I love knowing that I am a walking work of art with how different I am from the rest of society. And then there is the pain.  How every piercing, and tattoo feel so different, and how amazing it feels to get them done.  I'm an endorphin addict, and the...

I've learned recently exactly how much people enjoy and expect simplicity and routine.  Or more accurately that I've been reminded of it again.  How people see one thing, and have no idea how to process if it isn't precisely what they expect. Throughout my life I've always just enjoyed having fantastic people in my life.  People who fall into whatever role they do, even if it is just an important person.  In fact, it seems that the closer I get to a person, the less likely I am to be able to have a title for them.  They leave the category of being a friend, and whether there is a romantic interest or not, they wind up having a place in my life all their own. See, I rarely actually give a shit about a person, and when I do, they become so much more to me than my friends, and I appreciate them having a spot in my life at all.  I don't look to attach a title, or a role to what they are to me, just because that seems limiting of everything they are to me. ...

I am very much the kind of person that enjoys physical contact with others.  Lots of little touches, and snuggles that make me content, and show how much I appreciate the other person. The thing is, contact with most people is weird for me.  It makes me twitch, twinge, and recoil.  There's only a few select people I enjoy being touched by, and most of them I've dated. Of the ones I haven't dated, most of them I would only snuggle with when we hung out alone.  Either one of us wasn't comfortable with the idea of showing any affection in public, or it simply wasn't the way we worked. There have really only been a couple people I've ever been snuggly with in public, even counting boyfriends.  Maybe a handful of people have ever been comfortable with me kissing them in front of anyone.  I'm not quite sure how it's worked that way, but it's usually never something I've asked of them, and on occasion, it would get to me. My dysmorphia is one of...

While I most easily describe myself as a switch, when a ton of new orientations were available as options on Fetlife, I found primal, and swapped out to that one, keeping it ever since. A lot of people don't think it fits, and well, they aren't the people I fuck, or play with, because they obviously don't know me. No, I don't look to build a pack of playmates.  I don't associate myself as an animal, or participate in animal play.  I am a civilized human, who happens to listen to, and satiate the primal, feral thoughts in my head. If you've ever seen me stare into a fire, you've gotten the slightest idea of it.  How I will look in, losing myself with the energy it puts off, but finding peace in the way the flames dance. If you've watched me run through the woods, moving as if I've lived there my entire life.  Flying through the trees, with a smile on my face, just from feeling the wind in my hair, my fingertips along the trees, and listening t...

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 usu...

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 ...