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Then & Now.  Hungry, Suckling, Wanton souls

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When I was younger much much younger. Older men liked me a lot.

They were jaded, cynical, had the world at their feet, they liked me because I am innocent, playful and made them cry with my sex and open heart.

They knew what it was like to have to live with the Beast. Their Beast scared me and I didn’t want my Beast and constant yearning for more, more, more; never letting me settle. So I put mine in a box and buried it in the garden and got on with my life walking in the light.

However, I found that I had to wear a large sunhat and sunglasses as the light was too bright for my eyes. I had to wear clothes that covered me up as the sun burnt my skin. I am a creature of the shadows, the darkness, I get my heat not from the sun but from hot bodies & hot passion.

I now know who I am, what I am. I need submissive beautiful men, I need sissy sluts & boy-men. I need men & women who blink away tears when they see me because they are overwhelmed at my passive Domination & their all encompassing submission.

I am addicted to those who have the eternal never satisfied hunger. My arousal is heightened at their outpouring of emotional & physical release. They gorge on my attention and lap up my gaze & touch. Like breast feeding starving babies, suckling from my abundance of perverted love. They are blissful and satisfied for the first time, I become their drug of choice. If Heroin was a person it would be me.

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About Prim Quim

I am an artist and therapist. I work within the themes of sexuality, repression, guilt, greed, contradiction, objectification, compulsion, itches that need to be scratched and bruises that need to be pressed. I am a consentual bruise presser, a boundary straddler and limit pusher. I interview people and witness their lives, I write about what I see, how I feel and all the beautiful fragments that make up my reality. I am the sum of all my parts - some bits move and other parts are static, some bits need oiling and other bits just run and run. I am both subject and object to myself. I am slave to my Art and so are the others who come into my sphere. I objectify and use, interrogate and examine - I need their reality and reasoning to lay alongside my own to compare, contrast, season and gorge upon. Exponent of automatic writing, compulsive self realisation and daring myself to go further.

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