broken brained, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life

Fessing up time – the bad behaviour of Pixie Heart.

So yesterday (Saturday )was a shitty day in this pixie pop’s head. I woke up feeling sick and giddy , with a very low mood and not really wanting to be around people. The day sort of just nosed dived from there really . I grumped at people, whined , stamped my feet and acted like a total brat. I refused desert at dinner and got stroppy when I was told to take a bath and go to bed early. So in the bath I got and had that ‘ahhhh’ moment , only for it to go away when I could not get in to the Loving BDSM munch. Me not thinking right, sort of went ‘ oh grate I have been blocked and everyone hates me’ (not the simply answer of they are having horrid on going tech problems) . But out of frustration, anxiety and a feeling of being totally lost, We this little pixie erupted to the vile monster I become when an anxiety attack hits me. I feel I need to mark the difference in a panic attack and and anxiety attack. Panic attacks are normally sudden , coming out of the blue and can normally end quickly, but not always . The are a lot of physical sides such as shacking , breathing heavily and feeling sick. Anxiety attacks build up over time and will normally have a different trigger. The are explosive, frightening and last a long time. They have a lot of the same physical effects of panic attacks and normally need medication to bring them under control. That may also lead to an extended depressive episode, psychotic break or a dissociative episode. Both are vile and any one who has them has my sympathy.

Anyway back to what I’m meant to be doing. I took meds, slept, woke feeling drained, tearful and repentant . I apologised to everyone I grumped at, but I also knew that the was going to be consequences for my actions, the always are and rightly so. The first part was / is to fess up and admit what I did and What rules I broke, so here we go…. (buckle up buckle up yell)

• I grumped at Maister , kitten , little bear ,babe and steve, when they offered help or support.

• I grumped at people online via email, twitter and DM , again this is very much not acceptable behaviour.

• I refused to let babe take Connie when she would not settle.

• I refused cuddles from kitten and snapped at her to leave me alone.

• I shouted at maîtser for moving knives in the kitchen without telling me. We do not use raised voices in this household and I do have the right to tell maîtser off.

• I did not tell maîtser how much weight I have lost, just that I lost weight. I know I should tell him as it can impact seriously on my health.

• I forgot to ask for sleep meds when I woke up crying in the night and refused cuddles to help calm me down.

• I scratched at the worry spot on my neck , behind my left ear and on my low back, making them bleed and open up. This is a form of self harm

• I have started swearing again. This is a basic rule break and I know very well how much Babe dislikes it.

• I put myself over 30 times a day for at least 5 days. Major problem and breaks at least 4 rules.

• Pushed myself to the point of physical and emotional exhaustion, but refused comfort form kitten and little bear.

• Skipped my nap time 4days in a row.

• Skipped my snacks, at least once a day for a week.

• Skipped a dentist and dermatologist appointment.

• Refused to take pain medication when needed .

• Refused to stay in bed when asked to rest.

• Back chatted and spoke out of turn to Babe 3 times.

• Sassed maîtser and grumped at him for telling me to take a nap

• I had things niggling on my mind, but let them fester, instead of talking to maîtser

.

So those are my crimes. It the first time ever that I have not thought hold up that’s not fair. I have been a right cow bag over the last month or so and I realise how grumpy and horrid I have been. So now for the rest of the punishment and this time maîtser has got all the Dom’s in my life to have some input in to it! As I said the first part is sitting down and writing down what I did and then listing the punishment I’m given. I put may not seem a huge thing to many people, but it is a very humbling thing to me. It is a way of showing I’m not perfect, I fuck up and the is always a price for those fuck ups. So the punishment safe as follows.

• Loss of all unsupervised free time for the next 2 weeks.

• Doctor and dentist appointments rebooked, attended , with aunt May.

• No back chat, sassing or grumping at anyone.

• No swearing what so ever. 10 for each swear word with Babes hair brush.

• Work outs 2 times a week with Steve, working on excretion , form and strength. For the next 4 weeks

• 30 mins of yoga a day, as set by babe . For the next 4 weeks.

• Swimming lessons weekly with maîtser, for the next 8 weeks.

• To drink 3 lt of water a day and to carry my water bottle at all times.

• To eat 2500 kl a day, everyday.

• To reach my 40000steps a week goal , but not exceeding it by more than 40000.

• To write for 60mins 3 times a day working towards a word goal of 10000 a week, for the next 6 weeks.

• One story for MM, kotw, and wicked Wednesday to be written and submitted over the next 6 weeks.

• Blog post to be written about why I brake rules and why I keep getting punishment for them.

• Blog post about the 5 Parts of my body I dislike the most and why I dislike them.

• Blog post about my top 5 phobias , why I have them and how they hold me back.

• To read and comment on 5 blog post a day for the next 6weeks. Turning the my top 3 in to a #SoSS post on a Saturday, for the next 6 weeks.

• Daily public affirmations to be done and blogged about.

• CNC is enforce for the next 6weeks, and covers affection from the girls and any PDA.

• To wear what I am told every day, no back chatting. For the next 6 weeks.

• To eat what I am told when I’m told for the next 6 weeks.

• 9.30pm bed time is in force for the next 6 weeks and a 10.30 lights out is in place.

So that’s my punishment and here’s hoping the next six weeks go without a hitch. But more than anything I hope I can do better and not let maîtser or myself down again.

Hugs,

Pixie x

From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Staging a comeback.

So, I feel like I need to write about this, it feels like the elephant that is in the room, and it is bothering me. I know I seem to be blogging gloomy crap right now. I don’t mean to, I really don’t, I just have stuff in my head that seems to want to make its way out. I would try and stop it, but if I don’t let it out, well it hurts and that hurt gets so bad it is like the worst heartbreak and physical pain all mixed together. What is this elephant that I have running around my head? Well I don’t hide the fact that I tried to kill myself, but I do avoid talking about it and I know how unconfutable it makes people feel when I talk about it. But I need to so, here goes…
First up I want to set a couple of things straight. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I tried to end my life a few times. the were half assed attempts, done when I was backed in to a corner and out of anger. They were never about needing attention or wanting to hurt other people. Nor was I being selfish, wallowing in self-pity and defiantly not about other people. It was very much about me and how bitterly I hate myself. I also Self harmed by cutting myself, again this was not done for attention or as a cry for help. It was a way of dealing with anger and self-loathing that I felt, I chose to turn that back in on me, instead of lashing out on people I loved. However, the last time I tried to kill myself, well I meant that to work.
It happened about 8 weeks after the whole break up shit with my ex happened. Looking back, I can see I was sick, really sick. My body was doing a great job healing from the rape and beating that had been infected on me. But my mind, well that was not doing so good. I was numb, I felt nothing or everything all at once. But I grew up believing that mental illness and suffering with it was a sin, something to be hidden and never spoken about publicly. So, I hid the depression, the panic, the tears, and pain. Over the years I have learnt really well to stamp down on things that hurt and not to get upset in front of people.
The days and weeks that followed, were getting harder and harder to deal with. It was around 2 weeks after this that my brain really shut down. I was barley sleeping, eating, and drinking and maxed out on my meds. So, to cope, my brain decided to switch of, shutting down. I started to lose time, I would look at the clock and then when looked back a few minutes later, 2 hours would have passed. I’m here to say when you lose track of time and space like that, it is almost the most frightening thing in the world.
It got worse and worse, and I got the point of having to do something about it. I could have gone and spoken to someone, no I should have gone and spoken to somebody about it. But I the only thing I came up with was suicided. I knew I had an infection, but instead of getting help with it I hid it from those around me. I told people I needed space and I got it. Had a month’s supply of all my meds. I picked a night when I knew I would be on my own, I sat down with a bottle of vodka, took my pills, walked up the stairs to the bedroom I had nearly died in, lay down and waited for everything to stop.
What I had not counted on was my friends knowing something was not right (Thank the gods for my Darling Kitten), my sisters being very nosy and me forgetting to get my house key back off my Daddy. I was found just in time, but I was in bad shape and very nearly did not pull through. But my body, had other ideas and it decided to keep fighting. I don’t remember much about the first few days in hospital. I remember my sisters and daddy crying, Aunty May turning up and refusing to leave my bedside. I remember kisses on my nose from Kitten, my and being held by a gruff old bear that maitster. I remember my priest coming and saying preys.
When I was out of danger, well that is when things got tough. I want no more than to go home. But that was not going to happen. I was weak as flip, and my head was all over the shop. I was given 2 options by my sisters and doctors either voluntary stay in hospital and coverless and get help from professionals, or they would section me. no brainer really.
I was moved to a pulmonary and cardiac rehab centre, as I had fucked my lungs with the infection I had. so that became my home for the next 2 months. It was in the first few weeks that I put in some very hard work to get my head together. I was speaking to 3 counsels’ and a clinic therapist. I had to see my Cpn twice a week and was reviewed weekly by doctors. I was a mess. It was this time that mistier kind of came back into my life, or in to my life, depending how you look at it.
I have always said, we have been D/s before we even knew it. I was in hospital, angry at been treated like a child, when he came to visit. I ranted about how unfair it all was, and you no what he did?? He listens to what I said and when I finished, he decided to set me straight. He told me that people thought I was going to die, that I had acted foolishly, that I had lost their trust and that I was now acting like a brat. It was the first time anyone had been that open and honest with me in weeks. It made me break down in tears, and boy did I cry!
When I calmed down he asked me what I wanted to do. I said go home, hug my dogs, and get better, and most of all I wanted to be treated like a grown up again. So, he offered to help me. but the were rules and I had to do the hard work of fixing myself, he was not going to do it for me. That was when my ear pricked, everyone had been saying you need to do this or that and he was the first person who asked me what I wanted to do. So, I jumped at his offer. That’s when I got my first 3 rules from maitser . they were, no more lies, no hiding things and I had to keep talking to him.

Well that was 6 years ago, and oh how things have changed. I have gone from stupid, frightened little girl.to a strong woman, who knows her own mind and who will fight her own corner. I went from friend, to lover, to submissive, to girlfriend, to fiancé, to wife and landed at mother. I now have everything I never knew I wanted or needed. I’m finally truly myself.
But it has been tough. The have been times that I have fallen, but it has been me who has myself up off the ground, every time. I have had set backs, blips and melt downs. It has been hard work, putting me back together. I have people who help me and who are routing for me and will hold my hand when I need them to. but I did not do this for them. Nope, I did it for me. it has made me stronger than I ever thought I could be, it has made me, who I needed to be. And it has made me so determined to never ever go back to be a victim, ever again. I always get offend if some one calls me a victim of domestic abuse or rape. I’m no victim, I’m a saviour, and that has turned me in to a warrior.
So that is my ramble about how I made my come back. It has left me feel stronger, calm, and happier than I thought it would. And before you ask, yes, the epic, depressing post will hopefully be ending soon, promise!
Hugs,
Pixie x

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

Raw.

Raw.

I sit, numb and bleeding. I feel the tears rolling down my check , on to my t-shirt, but I make no noise. I don’t remember how I got here , or why I’m crying, or what is hurting the must. Is it cut arm my arm or the ache in my heart. I remember picking up the razor and pushing in tonmy skin, the burn I felt as if sliced in to the flesh, and the sense of calm that I felt as I saw the blood running out of me.

I remember the physical pain I felt with him. The pushing , that turned to shoves, that led to kicks, that led to me cowering on the floor. Him towering above me, anger burning in his eyes, fist clenched. I remember the slaps that turned to punches. Never leaving a mark on my face or any place people would guess how I got them. I remember the occasional slaps, turn to daily punches , that led to beatings so bad I could not move properly days.

I remember the mental pain he could inflict. The little put downs that turned to viscous name calling. How his words could maim and injury much more than a fist could any day. I remember the ways he controlled everything, losing friends, contact with my family. I remember the fear, pain and terror I felt, when he lashed out with those vile words. How it felt to believe them and the sense of total worthlessness. I remember the sobs that would rise up through my body , after he told my I was scum, stupid or disgusting.

I remember the fear and disgust I felt from the aggressive coercion to take part in or perform sexual acts that I did not want. I remember the deep feeling of shame , disgust at myself and the hopeless resignation I felt after the sexual violence. The searing pain and the loss of blood after fishing’s went wrong. The look of pure madness on his face when I told him no. The terror of being held down and raped, over and over again. The belief that I was not going to live till the morning. The look in my fathers eye when I had to tell him what he did to me, that will never, ever leave me till my dying breath.

And still , I rose again , to fight on , to live another day.

But some times, like now, all the memories come flooding back. Sitting in my mind and festering. Till they have to come out, some how. Yes they are less painful, not so bright, fading each day. But they are still there and on days like this the still feel raw, jagged and bright. They had to come out, and though I know the cutting is wrong, I chose that , over hurting those I love.

So as I sit, watching the blood and tears dripping to the floor. I remember it may feel raw for awhile. But with time it will fade to a faint scare, never truly leaving me, but becoming a scare, left to remind me, that I too, will rise again.

I wrote this after a meeting with my therapist a couple of years ago. I never thought I would ever think of , let alone hit the publish button on this. It is a real part of me and is as the title says, pixie laid raw at your feet.

Thank you for reading,

Hugs,

Pixie x

Question time., Uncategorized

Question time with the girls and …. Jay, from Tesstesst,nl

So up today on Question time with me and the girls is the wonderful Jay from Tessesst.nl. Writer of wonderful sex toy reviews, Sex talk Tuesday tweeting hero and all round nice guy! hope you enjony reading this as much as we did!

1. What is your favourite sex toy ever?
– Can I divide this in categories? Sure, I can!
o Penis stimulation: Fun Factory Cobra Libre II’
o Prostate stimulation: Meo.de Stainless Steel milking stick (yes really, it’s a milking stick)
o Kink: ElectraStim Duo Flick set
2. Sub, Dom, or switch? Dom, very much so, for over 20 years now 😊
3. What are your super powers? I’m an HSP INFJ with a knack for being very good at reading body language (and minds MUWHAHAHAHAHA) and will use it against you 😉
4. Where do you see yourself in 5 years from now? Reviewing more toys, having more fun, and hopefully getting payed good money for it.
5. If you could live in place in the world, where would it be and why? Somewhere where I am happy, that can be anywhere, but less of this cold Dutch weather would be nice.
6. What type of music do you like? Blues, Jazz, classical, anything, but I don’t really like rap or hiphop that much, oh and Just Bieber? Really? Why?
7. What is your favourite quote and what does it mean to you? “Qui habet aures, audiendi audiat!” Which means: Those who have ears should learn to listen. I’ll leave it up to you to the why and how of that quote
8. What was the last lie you told and why did you tell it? I’m already a member of your charity. Why? It was 7 pm and I was at dinner and they made me open the door.
9. What does your ideal date look like to you? Idealism is a dangerous concept, it will only end in disappointment. But hugs, cuddles and possibly awesome sex are good for the soul.
10. What is your favourite book that you could not live without? The Alchemist by Paolo Coelho, a must read.
Silly questions from little bear.
Why is the sea blue?
It was very naughty and the “creator” spanked it very hard.
Best sandwich ever?
“Hot Patato” Turkey Delight Sub (in Amsterdam, a much-missed sandwich shop).
Mayo or Ketchup? I’m European (ha!), so mayo of course. And not that hellmans crap either
Fruit or sweeties? Depends, mostly fruit though
Can you touch your nose with your tongue? No, but what it can do with other parts of other peoples’ anatomy surely is the stuff of legends

Want to find out more, here where you can find him!

http://https//www.tesstesst.nl

http://https//instagram.com/tess_tesst

http://https//instagram.com/jay_tesst

http://https//twitter.com/jay_tesst

hugs,

Pixie x

 

broken brained, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail

From the heart – broken brain update

Hello, hi , hay! So I have not been posting that much or writing much. Normally when that happens , well it’s down to life is busy or I’m working or I have important stuff happening. But not this time people. This time it’s because I don’t or haven’t seen the point. My depression is back and my anxiety levels are through the roof. I’m not coping well, I’m angry, confused and tired. I feel invisible, unliked and ugly. I am hurting , sore and had started hating myself again.

I don’t hide that I have mental health problems, well illness. But I fight it , every bloody day and for the most part I’m winning. But over the last few weeks, not so much. This has largely been bought on by my mum being sick and her death. But the have been other thing at play to. My gp changing my meds with out consulting me or my physiatrist or me, has thrown me off balance. He changed my antidepressant to normal to modified release. Meaning that in the morning I would get a massive high, a huge kick of happy , that by 2.30 pm was leaving and by 5 pm was leaving me flat and on a downward spiral. He cut my main anxiety meds from 5mg 6 times a day, to 1mg 4 times a day. Meaning my anxiety level went from liveable, to through the roof and frightened to level the house. He increased my thyroid meds from 200 mg to 350mg straight away. Meaning I got even more anxious, slept less and felt every so slightly manic. Added to this he stop my anti inflammatory med and took out 2 levels of my pain medication plan. Leaving me trying to cope on less pain medication than I need , not wanting to jump to the really high levels.

Now normally I can cope with a depressive bleep, but I have been dealing with loss and grieve, for people I loved or had very mixed and complex feelings for. Not knowing how to feel or deal with, well it all started to get to much again. I was going through the motions each day, but not feeling anything. I was numb and confused. It’s when this happens that the anxiety and ocd side of my kicks in . I also start to get paranoid and start seeing things in other people’s behaviour towards me that makes me even more paranoid and sad. People not replying to msgs , cos they are busy and stressed , to me is them saying I hate you, get out my life, your a vile bitch and I hate you. It’s not the case , but in my head it was or is. It’s like the worse form of rejection and it hurts. Then the voices start to come back, telling me I’m worthless , hopeless , ugly, vile and a waist of oxygen. Trust me they frighten the fuck out of me.

I got to Thursday last week , and I was dragging my bum out of bed , and just going through the motion of being me. To an outsider I looked like I was doing good. That’s cos I have , over the years got good at putting on a front of being good. I had to, or thought I had too. I don’t like bringing people down or being a pain. I mean I’m the sad sack , why should I bring them down with me, right. I stop a sling things, or for help or for support . I but inside, every time I see someone happy , it twists the knife and kills me a little more.

By Friday , well the pain, hurt and yucky feelings got to much. They left me feeling so sad and anxious, it becomes like a physical pain. So strong it takes you breath away and brings tears to my eyes. I was hurting so bad I started to lash out at people. Not hitting or slapping , but with spiteful words and hurtful actions. I grumped at people on twitter, I thought ill of people and refused cuddles from my darling kitten. Things came to head when uncle Fred ask me how I was doing, and I just broke in to a thousand pieces. Thankfully or sadly , depending how you look at it, he and kitten knew I was not well. The called maîtser, who came home from work. Took all my. Tech away and made me take my meds for anxiety attacks . I was tucked in bed with little bear, I cried and feel asleep in her arms.

Maîtser knew what to do, he always does. He came home from work, checked my tech and meds . (I used to hide things that upset me and I have some times stopped taking my meds when I’m poorly). He phoned my cpn and got him to do a home visit. They looked and saw what had happened with my meds , and my cpn phoned and dealt with my gp and my meds. They got my an appointment to see my head doctor for Monday and agreed on a plan for the weekend. Basically I had to do as I was told, rest and let myself be looked after. I think not having to think about stuff and being looked after was really what so needed. I went to bed on Friday, took my sleep meds and slept for 13 hours straight. I spent Saturday playing with my dogs, watching Disney films and cuddling my babies. Sunday I wrote a little, went out for a roast dinner, played with my babies , cuddled kitten and wrote a little more.

Well Monday morning hot hear, and I was a terrified again. I still had in my head that I was having some sort of phycotic break or something worse and that oil was going to be made to stay in hospital. Aunty May came with me, even coming In with me (I seriously thank the nhs needs great aunties as a way to help look after people with mental Health problems) . After 20 mins of chatting and looking at things, the verdict was in. I’ve not gone mad, or lost the plot or need to stay in hospital. What is wrong with me then? My mother died, my dr changed my meds, triggering a depressive blip and I could not cope with it. Simple! We have made a plan on how to deal with this. It involves medication, therapy , hard work and time. But I have a plan, and when I have a plan , well it sort of makes me see I can and will get better.

But I have also had to realise some pretty hard truths, that really have hurt to come to. The are people who I have hurt, and they may not want me around for a while. That some people may not want me as a friend or in theief lives. That people sometimes only have time for the happy , funny and silly pixie. My behaviour has made me open to critasism and reproach . That some people say one thing and mean another. That I am only human and myself, and that even if they say not , that is not enough or what they want. That others are more their. Up of tea . And even though it should not matter , that my bad mental health, is not something they want to deal with or have in their world. I have to except this and move on but it hurts like hell and it is the thing I’m struggling to except, and will take a long time to deal with or get used to not being enough, but I’ll get their. It is hard to except , it hurts and is going to for a long time. But I guess the is worse things than losing people you thought were friends and liked you. It just hurts and makes me feel invisible.

Well that’s the end to this mental health ramble . Self pity and whining will be kept to a mom I promise and normal pixie is back soon, just not yet.

Hugs,

Pixie

Masturbation Monday, Uncategorized

A lunchtime delight.

A lunchtime delight.

The house work is done, dogs are walked and feed , babies are out to lunch with their nana. The house is still and quiet, except for the hum of the washer, a slight snore from a sleeping Hound , and the overly loud ticking of the kitchen clock. I should make myself sit down and write or answer the boring emails, but I’m in the mood for teasing and misbehaving. So it is time to strip off my top, make sure my boobs are looking delightful, and take a boob selfie. (Thank you so much candysnatchreviews 😘) . It gets texted to maîtser, along with a message reading ‘are you coming home for lunch? You could eat me if you want😋😉’ . Knowing fully well that he is in a meeting at work and what it will do to him.

My phone beeps 5 minutes later, and I’m not shocked to see that it’s from maîtser. But my fingers tremble slightly as I open the message, not from fear but from anticipation, want and need. It simply reads ‘on my way home, be naked and in bed. We’re not eating , your getting spanked and fucked, be ready’ . That is enough to have me making puddles in my chair.

Looking at the clock , I jump up from my chair and fly up the stairs . Stripping off my clothes and throwing in dirty clothes hamper. I grab my hair brush and drag it through the mass of unruly curls, tying them up in a high pony tail. Next I check my face, adding a little mascara, pinching my checks to add a little lush to my pale checks. (Of all things to inherit from my nana, I got her big toes, pale skin, curly red hair , and the dimples on my bum) I grab my tooth brush, giving my teeth a super quick scrub, rinsing with some mouth wash. Then it’s a little lipstick, sprites of perfume and grabbing my play collar. The purple one, plan , simply and to the point, pretty much like me!

I hear the car pull up on the drive outside, just as I reach the bed. I dive on the bed , settling back on haunches, legs spread, back straight, head held high and eyes down cast. Arms out stretched, collar in my hands. I hear the door downstairs open and slam shut behind you and then your slow delperate tread on the stairs. I have now idea how the flip it takes you so long to walk up 2 flights of stairs. I am getting more and more fidgety the longer you take, is that why you take so long?

Then the door knob to the bedroom turns oh so slowly, and the door opens, in what seems like slow motion, and in you walk. Bold as brass , cocky and full of that confidence that is so you. You walk to the side of the bed, unclasping my chain day collar, and putting it on the dresser. For a brief second I feel truly naked with no collar round my neck, but as soon as you take the collar from my trembling fingers , placing round my neck, buckling and snapping it’s padlock firmly shut, I feel as if I’m clothed again. You remove you shoes, tie, socks and shirt, and join me on the bed. Sitting with you back against the head bored, legs outstretched and wide apart. You place a pillow between them and pat the pillow. With a soft tone , you utter “come lay down little one” , motioning for me to lay across your lap and except my punishment, like a good girl.

I always love laying across your knee, it feels like home. But the fact you now lay a pillow down so my tummy has something soft and supporting it, so the baby does not get squashed. With it the fact I get to wriggle , stretch and wiggle till I’m comfortable and can feel what that does to you , well it’s yummy! “You finished my little mouse?” You say , with bemused humorous tones? Not looking up , I nod and sigh, resting my head on my arms, wait for that first slap and the beautiful sting and burn.

When it lands , its sharp and sweeter than I could of hoped for. I count each smack and remember to thank you for all of them. He keeps them coming, harder and sharp than the last, and each one excites me a little more! He finish with such a hard blow, that I know I’ll have a hell of a bruised bottom, that I will be proud to show off if ask to!

He runs his fingers over my bum, deeps between my folds, to find me wet and ready to go. “Did you enjoy that little mouse” he chuckles. I nod that I did , as he brings his fingers to my mouth for me to taste myself and hungrily clean his fingers.

All of a sudden I’m flipped off his lap and on to my back, landing with soft thud and a slight squeak. Next thing I know his back on me, only this time his gloriously naked , hard and ready for action. Planting a hard , possessive kiss on my waiting lips , and surging into me at the same time. As hard as the blow from his hand, his public bone hits my clit over and over. Knowing better than coming with out pumishtion , I claw at his back and bit down on his shoulder, praying he lets me come. I can feel how close he is and then with a roar his shouts at me to come, as his climax takes me over the edge, to my own shattering climax.

The next thing I know , he rolls on to his side snuggling me in to him , as I drift off to sleep.

I wake soon after , to the smell of hot cinnamon bagels and the feeling of my bum being rubbed. “Wake up little one, I have to get back to work. Eat this, drink your milk and rest for an hour” he says , place a kiss on my nose. I stretch , open my eyes and smile a lazy grin. With one last lingering kiss his gone, leaving me to my beagle and the wonderful after glow of my lunch time delight.

Masturbation Monday

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail

Twitter followers give away, with tigger’s collars!

1000 Twitter followers give away, with tigger’s collars!

So a few weeks ago I was taking a stroll round Etsy , looking for a birthday present for my daddy (my father). When I stumbled across the most beautiful folio case ever, In lilac and baby blue. That takes a A4 pad of paper , with little pockets and clips for my pen and pencils. The downs side , well the fact that It cost almost £100! I can’t get my head round spending that much on myself or would I. So I took it to maîtser and asked if the was away to ‘earn it’. Him being my wonderful , fun Dom he came up with a list of tasks and challenges for me to work, with the end reward being the folio case. One of the goals was to get my twitter following from 666 to 1000. Well We’ve changed a few, due to work load , my mother illness and her passing and finding out we have baby number 3 on the way! But the twitter one stayed the same. The closer I got to the big the 1000 mark ,the more I wanted to do something to say thank you to lovely people who followed me. But I wanted It to be something very pixie-ish. Not being able to post unicorns to people, the next biggest pixie-ish thing I. Outdoor think of was my collar, and when I think collar , I think tigger’s collars! So I quite boldly, well for me asked tigger if I could give a gift voucher for her online store away, and it was met with a massive yes!

I have been a massive fan of tigger’s collar for a long time. They are beautifully made, with love and care . They are quality , leather , vegan leather or pvc based . With fabulous ready to wear options, that sing to my little, submissive side. Put by far the best bit is the build your own option! I have 3 of them, and I would wear them 24/ 7 if I could , but I can’t really wear my princess collar or spiked one to mass on Sunday, but I would if I could! With tigger you can pretty much email her and say can I have it x, y and z?and she will pretty much be able to make you , your dream collar. Then the is the arrival of your collar. Dear lord, all I will say is it’s like a birthday, Christmas and all your treats in a discrete little box In the post. Lol master says that every sub / little / kitten / princess should get to open a tiggers’s collar at one point in their life. Lol.

So fast forward to now, and I have 1000 followers and we have a give away! So what / how is going to work? Well I’m posting a tweet, saying to enter like this tweet to enter, names will be noted and after 10days, it will be closed , names go in a hat and a very lucky winner will be drawn! The is also going to be 3 small prizes of pixie post for 3 little’s as well , to sort of celebrate the birth of the undercover little! So let’s get this started!

Pixie x

Ps -this Is being posted by kitten , as pixie pops is poorly, but really wanted to get this going!

family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

She is gone.

 

Late yesterday afternoon Maîtser got a phone call. IT was one of those where he picks his phone up, sighs, and hits the answer button. His bright “hello Sophie, how are you”, turned to him sitting up straight, white faced and saying in a hushed tone “oh god, when?”. The question I knew would be coming any day. He fished the call, turn to me and utter 3 words “She is gone”. Then wrapped me in his arms as the enormity of them hit me full force.

What happened? Who is gone? Who is she? You maybe asking, well she is or was my mother, and she has passed away, after a 6month battle with cancer. I knew she did not have long left and I knew she was very ill, but the was part of me that thought, no, she’ll never actually die. My mother followed in her mother’s foot steps of being a very stubborn and head strong lady, so I never really believed she would go. Cos she was so stubborn!

I have written about my mother and how badly we got on, or as maîtser says how brilliantly we did not get on. But I still loved her, even though I did not like her. She was, in her own way a very strong lady, who I can’t help but admire for what she achieved. But was at times a cruel bully, who looked out for number one. Who was spiteful and had a vicious tongue. But I still loved her, after all she was my mum.

What am I left with? How do I grieve? How am I meant to feel? Well I guess I’m left feeling a little numb, shocked, and kind of in limbo. I’ve cried, I got angry and I cried some more. I have talked about it, hugged my babies and eaten ice cream. The truth is although I’m sad and upset she is gone, but the is part of me that more than anything is relieved. She was so ill, and in so much pain that it must have been a happy release. (Cop out term I think).

But what it has done is make me so very thankful for the amazing ‘mother’s’ I’ve got in my lifer had. My nana, who raised me and taught me to love. Aunty May who inspire, Mother’s me, and pushes me to be a better me. My mother in law, who is like the mum I never had and who loves me like the daughter she never had. I am a very lucky lady indeed.

What it’s made very clear is that my baby girls and the little one in my tum, well they are never, ever going to not feel loved. Nope, never, ever, ever. It has made it so clear that all I ever wanted was my mother to love me and put me first. So as a relatively new mummy myself, I have sworn to myself that they will always be my priority. I know love is not all they need, but it’s a bloody good place to start.

I don’t know how I’m going to be in a few days, or months. What I do know is with the love and support of my family and partners, I’m going to be fine.

Hugs,

Pixie

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail

Things I don’t believe in….

Things I don’t believe in….

Ok, ok I know I seem to be doing down beat blog posts this week, I know ! But this is less down beat than the tittle would have you think, ok? It kind of came to me this morning, laying in bed after a rather lovely morning fuck. Maîtser was humming one of ‘are songs’, Dream by Gabriel , and as I snuggled in close and started drifting back to sleep and my own dreams, I was hit by thoughts of my nana. I have been thinking a lot about her recently, with my own mother coming to the end of her own life. I was really close to my nana, and she taught me so, so ,so many things. Like how to clean house, how to take care of babies and how cook for 14 people without breaking a sweat. But I also remember all her ‘funny’ ways of looking at the world. To an outsider looking in, she was a very simple creature. A country girl, a wife, a mother and housewife. But she also was a feminist, peace protester and loved learning. The 3 things I remember her saying the most often were, always have a dream , nobody is perfect, and I just want them (her family) to be happy. This got me thinking about how she always refused to believe anything was perfect, and then on to the things I don’t believe in. So I thought I would write about them.

Perfection and paragons – ok so this kind of a stolen one from my nana (sorry nana!). But I really don’t believe anyone or anything is perfect, I just don’t. Growing up in a very strict Orthodox (Russian) / Catholic household we learned the bible forwards, backwards, upside down and standing on are heads. So I knew the words ‘he, who has not sinned cast the first stone’ really well. My nana used that to stop arguments, and my daddy coming down to hard on us, when we did something wrong. But my belief goes a little deeper than the bible . I also think that it is impossible for things to be perfect. They may seem it or look it, but if you dig a little deeper the is always a flaw or an imperfection. I also think that some of the most beautiful things and people in the world have imperfections. In fact , those imperfections , make them so much more wondrous. Don’t get me wrong I always aim for as good as humanly is possible, but by excepting things having flaws, it save heaps of time and a hole lot of worry.

Miracles – now this is going to sound mad, coming from someone who thought she could not have children, who had non identical twins girls. But the reason I don’t believe they were a Miracle, is simply the fact that non identical twin girl do happen. Mine are not a one off, the are a fair few around. I also don’t think people ending up millionaires from winning the lottery isn’t a miracle, for the same reason. I also hate, more than words , when people say to me, ‘oh it’s a miracle you turned out so well” or “ it’s a miracle your still alive” . Everything I have or have gotten in my life has either come from a lot of hard work, or a great deal of hardship and loss. I have the great fortune to of inherited, a pretty large amount of money, when I was younger. But I only have that due to losing my god mother to breast cancer. I have had 3 really good jobs and I am respected in the fields I have worked in. But again I worked really hard to get there.

Respect your elders and betters – No, no, no! this is just not true. I believe that you should respect everyone, without exception. But people can lose that respect, and telling me I need to respect them, just because they are older or in a ‘better’ position than me. oh and while we are the subject of respect I completely disagree with the idea that respect needs to be earnt. Bull squirt! Respect should be given to everyone freely without exception. But as I said, I also believe that respect can be lost, and it can be lost very easily, and then it has to be earnt back.

Sorry is the hardest word to say – Again to me this is Bull squirt! Sorry is really easy to say. What is hard , is saying sorry and really meaning it from the bottom of heart, or that you were wrong, when you are wrong. My ex said sorry every time he beat me or sexually abused me, was he sorry no. sorries that are hollow and meaningless are in fact an insult to the person receiving them, or at least they are to me.

Swearing show how unintelligent people – Well then Mastier is stupid! (No his not, I’m not saying that maitsier) . So many super clever people I know swear like dockside navy. Steven Hawkins swore. Swearing is actually good for you. it’s a great way to relieve stress and realise happy endorphins .(ok can I may of made that part up)

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger- again, wrong on so many levels. Not wanting to make things about me, but things that have nearly killed me (yes I mean kill me!) have in-fact had the apiarist effect. Physical health stuff has left me with arthritis, lung damage and poor hearing. My ex beat so badly that I have had 6 operations to fix what he broke. Sexual assault and rape left me so frightened and depressed that I tried to take my own life. It also gave me ptsd, extreme anxiety attacks and full of triggers. But all this has left me with a need to slowly rebuild myself. It taught me to be open, caring and forgiving , as well as making me pretty mentally tough and determined to live. So I guess it is a-least a little true.

So that is what I don’t believe in, but I do believe in loads too ! So to close I will leave you with my grandads and mr Walt Disney’s saying “you gotta have a dream to make a dream come true”

Hugs,

Pixie

Dreams, by Gabriel

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail, Uncategorized

The undercover little

The undercover little!

I identify as a little and sort of came out as little about about 18 months ago, but I’m not what people think of when they think of a ‘little’. I’m not in to onesies, sippy cups, or pacifiers. Not that the is anything wrong with that, it’s just not my thing. But I have found that as time has worn on I have started to have my own littleismas. From the way I talk, to bouncing up and down when I get excited, to what I eat and the things I do for fun. But one of the first things that kind of changed was my way of dressing . Now don’t get my wrong , I don’t wear child like cloths or in your face little, but the have changes are very stubble changes and they have made me a lot more comfortable in my own skin.

Thinking about the way I dress and how it changed , I can see the time that things changed, was when maîtser came in to my life (😘). I was kind of dressing for comfort, ease and without wanting to stand out. Maîtser kind of got me taking pride in my appearance and the way I dress. I guess you could say I start to dress in away that pleased him. He also put in to my rules , ones for how he wanted me to dress . One is that I am to wear girlie bras and panties, with a camie in the winter (he likes me to keep warm as much a posable). He also likes my dressing in a feminine manner and when ever possible wear dresses. Most days he will give me a choice of 3 outfits, and ask me to pick which one I want to wear. The biggest rule I have though is that I am to dress in a lady like manner, never overly sexy or showy , unless maîtser is with me.

Two areas that I always like to keep ‘little’ are my feet and my hair. I have collection of silly sock, with things like my little pony, pushine and unicorns on them. They alway make me happy, feel a little bit little and like I have a piece of maîtser with me. I never wear high heals , unless I’m going dancing . Instead I wear flat Mary-jane’s or ballet pumps, and sneakers or boots if I’m working. I always , also have painted toe nails, normally purple or pink. As for hair , well I have shoulder length hair , with a wispy fringe. I either wear it down and naturally curly or have it up. Either in pig tails, a pony tail or braided. I have My girlie bands and pretty ribbons for my hairs too! Babe will quit often do my hair for me and hair favourite way she does it is down and curly, with a ribbon holding it back. She also dies it pretty colours as well .

I guess I now have my ‘little‘ uniform, it’s kind of a realign against the norm sort of a look. I have never really followed fashion, which is wired as I work for a fashion house for. Long time. As a teenager and in to my early twenties I was a kind of skater girl / emo / rocky chick sort of a girl. Lol my god son says I was queen of emo, before it was fashionable.(his 19) but sines I have embraced my little side more, that look has changed a lot. I’m now more of a punky, princess with a shy side. But I also have my little , little bits . I have pin badges, earrings and a whole host of unicorn t-shirts.

I guess for me it’s been a sort of finding my fit sort of a thing. You uwould not be able to guess I’m a little , unless you knew what a little was, and not really then. Maîtser says I have become his punky little princess, comfy in her own skin, and unapologetically me!

Hugs,

Pixie x

Ps- all the talk of the undercover little has got me and kitten thinking of setting up a little craft shop on Etsy , but more of this later!