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Note: I don't.... quite identify as a Switch? My identity is a tad more complicated. Using the simple dom/sub scale, I'm closer to a dominant, but there's also submission within me. It's something that's a little more complex yet a little more simple than domination or submission. It is a desire for the swirling energy of passion that comes in domination and submission, or in domination and struggle.
Welcome to the Collarme profile of Azure the Extravagant.
I am the crimson-clad dancer upon the Wheel of Fortune, a man of explosive passion and unlimited spirit.
I'm a man who craves intensity from those around him, and acts as an anathema to the dull, bland, and uninspired memetics which purvey our society. I'm a dominant who commands with both cool reason and hot passion, a social and cheerful youth who wishes to improve the world one smile at a time, and an unabashed berseker who drinks in suffering like the sweetest of milk and honey.
As you can see and read, I am a man of analogy and metaphor, who swings paintbrushes in rainbow arcs of spirit when photographs would do the job, and has a deep appreciation for video games, dance, flirting, and the scent of a woman whose passions burn hot and flow like a relatively sticky river between her legs.
I am the elegant. I am the eccentric. I am the extravagant.
And good gaia I could use a pizza, a nicely bound up subbie, and some pumping electronica right about now. |
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The follower gains courage by having the faith in the leader.
The leader gains inspiration to rise to their true potential by wanting to live up to the follower's faith. |
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There are days when my heart and mind are dipped in creative madness that I'm like a hot and sour soup; tangy and biting and flavorful. Filling and appetizing all at once.
The kind you don't just order one of; you gobble up your bowl to stave off starvation and take all the flavors at once, then you sip the next to fill yourself up and enjoy each of the flavors mixing and combining like a matrix of prisms, ever splitting and combining white light into rainbows into a thousand hues. |
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To the cocks who asked one of my friends "how all the fat girls become princesses", let me reply:
You are total cocks.
And by total cocks, I don't mean the throbbing rods of flesh that are covered in lovely nerve endings that can do amazing things for their weilder and the person they're inserted into if used properly. I mean the birds.
You are mean-spirited, attention-grabbing, loud and stupid.
It's okay to not be into fat girls - though I don't see why you wouldn't be; most of the time they have amazing curves, great breasts, these gorgeous hips that can make the will shudder with an easy sashay, and a body which seems to be imbued with the strength nessessary to stand up to a rough fucking. It's okay to prefer your girls skinny and thin; that's cool.
What's not okay is to put down an entire group of people just because they aren't your thing. It's not fucking okay to think that you get to be the end-all, be-all judge of beauty, and that your standards are the world's standards. It not just leads you to being a horrible person who's bringing people down and doing *absolutely nothing that brings anyone any joy or gets anyone laid*, it's egotistical.
Like, maybe you disagree with my little aside about fat girls - maybe you don't find them pretty. Sure, whatever, who cares? But why does it fucking matter? Why are you going around putting them down instead of finding someone who IS your type to praise? You're not even helping yourself.
So fuck you. Stop being a pretentious cock pecking at people and making the world a shittier place one negative comment at a time and go dive in a dumpster and roll around until your body smells the same as your soul. Or maybe, just maybe, have the courage to be a positive person and just move past the profiles of the people who aren't your type. |
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My nails bite at my palms as I suck down a gasp of pain.
I don't ignore the feeling of your teeth in my neck, the pain of you sinking into me like some hungry animal.? I don't ignore the feeling of your arms wrapping themselves around me, of nails digging into my skin and tearing away at flesh.? My instincts command me to resist, to fight, to run from the pain.
Your teeth just grow harder, more violent as my body quivers and my blood burns.? Blood flows between my legs and I clamp down.? The pain grows ever more intense, ever harder to resist, as it gives way to another feeling, a swimming feeling; the feeling of your hunger begins to fill my head and cloud my thoughts.
My palms bleed as my trembling fists clench tighter than they ever have.
Your nails tear skin and spread flecks of blood around us.? The power of your fangs and nails, the power of you begins to overwhelm me.
"Nn...ah~" a moan escapes my lips as your teeth sink in so deep that the iron taste of my blood fills your mouth.? Surrendering to the pain, to the passion of sensation, my body stirs and my hips buck softly, my eyes fluttering closed
My fists break into open hands, gentle and calm.? Instinctually, automatically, naturally, my arms fall around your shoulders, and pull you ever closer.
As I'm enveloped by your hunger, I wrap you in acceptance.
I accept this pain, because it is born of passion and hunger. |
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