broken brained, From the heart

Me and my mother, we have issues…

Well as you might have guessed this is not going to be a kink filled post, nor is it written by a happy little Pixie. A tired, tearful, and struggling pixie writes it, but it is something I need to sit and write about. If I don’t I may run mad or explode. It is written by a girl having to deal with feelings that she does know how to handle or know how to react to them. TI is coming off the back of one of the hardest days I have ever had to deal with.
So, what is it that has me so tied up in knots and left me reeling? Well this morning I got a phone call from my eldest sister, say that my mother had been taken in to hospital and that I needed to meet them at the hospital. Now this in its self is worrying and upsetting. But when you know how sick my mother is and that she is dying from cancer, well you get an idea of how frightened I was.
Getting to the hospital I was met my sisters, was lead trough to majors and confronted with my mother, looking tiny, lost and very sick. its then my sister dropped the bombshell, mother dearest is on her last legs, about to shuffle of this mortal coil. It hit me like a ton of breaks, but it also bounced right off me. I was in shock and numb. I have known for a long while how ill she is and that she was going to die, but I never thought she would do it! Please don’t think I’m being flippant or cruel or naive. As you will guess from the title, mother and I have problems, big, ugly problems.
We have never been close or ever got on. After I was born, she had to have a hysterectomy, meaning she could not have any more children. She desperately wanted a boy, and I put a stop to that. I have always felt that she held that against me or blamed me. She went back to work a mere 10 weeks after my birth and was never around as I grew up. I was lucky to have a great nana, who raised me, but I never really had my mum. My sisters are much more my mothers cup of tea. Both are whip smart, beautiful, and driven. I’ve always been timed, arty and a homebody, not something she liked, and made it very clear she did not like it.
As I got older she did things that hurt me very deeply. Almost continual verbal abuse and putting me down. She bullied me in to doing what she wanted and how she wanted. She also expected me to cheer my daddy up when he was low and left me with him in hospital after he tried to take his own life. She left me in his care when he was manic and ignored him hitting and punching me. when I found out I was pregnant a 16 she frogs marched me to the doctors for a termination. I went to university because she would not except me not going. But I dealt with it, with therapy, time, and love from people I trust and love.
However, the are things I won’t or can’t forgive. She knew my ex husband was beating me and knew how bad things were but chose to keep quiet about it. She blamed me for the break down of my marriage, when I tried so hard to fix the problems. She tried to turn my sister’s angst me when I tired to take my own life. But the biggest thing by far is her denying she had an alcohol problem. I should forgive and forget, but I just can’t. So, I have chosen to member and recover.
But now she is about to leave, I don’t know how to cope or deal with it all. After everything that has happened, after all that has been said and all the nasty things she has down, I still love her. I don’t like her, but I love her, she is my mum. Nobody told me how I should feel, or act or cope. So, I’m left trying to cope and come to terms with all that is going on.
I’m not looking for sympathy, well wishes or kind words. I just needed to get all this out, so I can start to deal with it. So, I will leave it there, and sleep on things or try to.
Pixie x

Eroticon, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail

The things I took away from Eroticon.

 

Well I thought I would join in with a post Eroticon post. I have limited myself, because if I listed everything I have taken away from it I would be here till next year’s Eroticon. (yes, that does mean I’m going next year and I’ve started saving already) So here goes.
. A goodie bag to end all goodie bags! Ok, so I had to start with the good bag, it was that good! Full of sexy and kinky little treats. Trust me, I love a goodie bag and with all the conferences I attended, I get through quite a few. But this one had great things that I / we will use. I got 2 mugs, one of which the Boss man has declared is going to work with him and little bear has called dibs on the other. But my fav thing of all must be a pencil, that one of the venders had burnt the outline of a naked lady on to. It will be going to college with me and will be my kink side, on view for the whole world to see, without being in your face.
. Became a published writer. Ok, so I sent a story into the anthology for Eroticon, and it got pic to be in it. Meaning that I came away with a story published in the anthology. I got a copy of the book at the event and have read it from cover to cover, and my what a clever bunch we are! I keep looking at it and crying.
. A new / free toy! The awesome Unihorn stardust clitoral vibrator from rocks off. I got talking to the lovely lady on the rocks off stand, and she asked if I reviewed toys? My answer was no, but it is something I have wanted to get in to doing for a very long time, well we all have really. So, she said if I came back at the end of the conference she would let me have the stardust and we could do a review. Well I did go back, I did get the stardust and I / we tried it out as soon as we got back to the hotel. Lol it in fact made me and the boss man rather late for dinner with his mother.
So now we have past the very pixie focused gains, let’s move on to the fluffier things I have gained, shall we……
‘Made new friends. on the first night, at the meet and greet I had managed to walk in to the holiday inn and was greeted by the wonderful Molly and Cara. Then I was introduced to Mr DomSigns and girl on the net. After that I did the normal me thing of trying to blend in and make myself as little as I could. However, having a bad case of baby / pregnancy brain I tried to this right by the coat rack! Luckily the was another lady doing pretty much the same as me, I think I bumped in to her and we got talking. After 10 minutes of people wanting to hang coats up and being in the way, we venture upstairs to the main room and got a set. This was a great move and we talked to people! Lol the lovely lady I made friends with on the first night, was the epic Sharron Atkinson, and we pretty much stuck together the whole weekend. To be honest, she was my saving grace. A fair few times I got panicked, sad and wanted to go hide, but she made me smile and talked to me. we sat together to eat and hung out in free time. I even talked to people and relaxed a little bit.
. Found out big fancy bloggers are real people – ok so be that I mean that bloggers who I follow and really look up to, are real people. They are flesh and blood. They breath, sneeze, and fart like us mere mortals. I even manged to talk to some of them without going all fan girl and silly.
. Had my belief that academics are approachable – Ok this down to the amazing Madeleine Morris. I sat in on both of her talks and was impressed by both. She speaks with such passion and knowledge on her subject, I was slightly in awe. I grow up in a family full of self-precelled academics, who I always felt as if I should worship them and be a little frightened of them. But at university I was blessed to work with legends, who were ‘Academics’ and changed my outlook on education and learning. But then over recent years, I sadly had people who were very much my first idea of academics, least of all my sisters. So, when I met Madeleine at Eroticon on the Sunday morning, in between napping with knobby and Elvis, and had 10-minute conversation about pollution, sinuses problems, snoring, my ex-husband, and plastic surgery, well let’s say I’m back to thinking that academics rock.
. That I can be sociable – Ok so I made it to the meet and greet, the conference and the Saturday night social. On my own, talking to people and not freaking out. I’m not saying it wasn’t hard and that I enjoyed the whole thing, but I did it on my own without the Boss man or one of the girls. That has not happened in a very, very long time.
. Got a kick up the ass – This was very much needed for me. My writing and blogging has been on the back burner over last month or so, and I had to the point of thinking of just stopping it all together. I was tired, mind body and soul. But being with other people, who are so excited by what they do, sort of rubbed off on me a little.
. Inspiration – I mean to say how could not come away a little bit inspired? I for one am breaming with ideas of things I want to do and try! Lol I have even started pestering sir beasty about writing again!
. Comfortable, being me – ok so this is one of the biggest things I have taken away from Eroticon. I got to be 100% myself. I was the collar wearing, little pixie. nobody batted an eyelid that for a lot of it I was sat cuddling an anxiety blob or sat on the floor or in some ways little. No touched me or tried to make me do things that are hard for me. I was accepted as me.
. Got my Sunday craft fix – To me Sunday is full of 3 things, Mass, Crafting and
Fucking. I went to Mass before the Sunday morning session and fucked in the evening, but I also got my Sunday crafting fix. Thanks to Andrew and Pixie of kinkcraft. Knobby even got a lush new collar! It was also made better by it being in a nice quiet room, full of lovelies like Candysnatchreiews, Kayla Lords, wriggle kitty and John Brownstone.

Now this is where I thought I would be closing this post, and I really was going to, but life is never that simple. The have this week been a lot of talk and chatter in this house hold, largely bought on by Eroticon. I had a slight break down on Sunday night / Monday morning, about a lot of stuff I have had going on. I’m not going to bore you with the in’s and outs of it all. But the have been some major changes in my life. I’m going to list the changes and I will go in to more details over the coming weeks, cos I don’t have the words yet to explain why they have had to happen. So here you go ….
• I have stepped down from all my jobs, bare my privet clients and rescue work.
• I’m going to spend a while enjoying being a mummy
• I’m going to be working on my blog and writing
• I will be doing more kink focused things
• I’m cutting ties with a lot of my family
• I’m having a proper holiday and visiting some of my friends I have not seen in a long time
• I’m going to be looking in to setting up an Etsy shop with Kitten
• We are going house hunting in New jersey.
So that is the end of a very rambling post!
See you all next year?!?!

Pixie x

From the heart

I watch you…..

I watch you…
Each finger first unbuttons, then unzips, slowly applying pressure to fabric
Looking up, a blaze of red blushing cheeks and eyes, giggling…

I watch you…

Each finger first unbuttons, then unzips, slowly applying pressure to fabric
Looking up, a blaze of red blushing cheeks and eyes, giggling…
My heart beat races and I force myself to slow it down
You always giggle. It is one of those things I love the most. Not beautiful body, but ageless spirit
Removing the days wears from your sore overworked self,

I watch you…

To see each curve, each line; so perfect it makes me imagine
I see the pants, once tight and becoming curving against cheeks
Now being thrown it a corner, forgotten in a basket of other forgotten things.
Sad, but I know if I prowl out from where I perch, they will smell like your perfume and feel warm to the touch…
For a moment they will still mimic the beautiful woman that wore them

I turn back, sensing rather than seeing movement; to the uppers now
Seeing the flat of your stomach, sexy,

I watch you…

exposed to me and exciting, that feeling begins to pulse within me
The hunter is coming out
Arms are over your head and giggle, again
I crawl up to the spot on the bed closest to you
Slinking, stalking your scent, your radiance,

I watch you…

Blowing on your skin, moving upward from china white belly to red lace
Enjoying each goose bump as it stands up on your skin

Now I am the hunter and you, my only desire
As the sweater comes off, exposing your shoulders
the silky white creamy skin, smelling of roses
tasting of your days exhaustions and excitations, still,

I watch you…

Waiting for my moment to pounce
To reveal my hiding place within your presence
Your hair falling all to hell in your face
you are stunningly beautiful in all ways.
You look at me and giggle
as your hands runs over your breasts
down your tummy and your fingers find a place in your red lace panties. Oh, How

I watch you..

Pleasure yourself slightly, all for my pleasure
Your fingers are playing along that sensitive spot that I love to place my tongue
you look up tip of your tongue playing the corner of your mouth
playing at driving me crazy

The game is on and the hunter is hungry
Playing for keeps. You are pure sex to me.. Love, unconditional
You run your fingers into your arousal and pull them out
one for you and one in my mouth
I drool and suck it hard.
I have tasted what I want and it will be Mine

I watch you…

Up on all fours, I come
Stalking you in the sheets and the pillows of this love nest
Disarray that may work to my advantage tonight
Growling, I may yet have you and keep you, tasting your every gift…

You pat my head and walk out of reach but my hands grab you
and you turn, not taking hand off ass
firm and lovely

You give me the ‘hands off’ look with a gentle smile, recounting “I would just watch you”
Defeated, I comply with your wish, as I always do
dressing slowly, revolvingly around the spot were you stand
One finger in your mouth, one in mine…And, as usual
I watch you

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

Accident waiting to happen!

So, many people think they are the most accident-prone person in the world, right? Well I can without any doubt say that they are all wrong. I can even say I know who the clumsiest and most accident-prone person is, because it happens to be me! No really, it’s me.
I have been like it since I was a tiny kid. If I could fall off something, bump my head, brake, or drop things I did. I have no idea how I made it to adulthood. The first big and noteworthy accident happened when my sisters and I got sent to stay with my aunty Molly and uncle Stan on their farm in county Antrim. The was a loose slate on a roof of they barn, and me being, at the time the smallest and lightest of us, I got sent up to fix it. (don’t judge, this was in the 80’s and long before health and safety). well I got to the top of the ladder, shimmed along and just as I finished fixing the slate in place, I stupidly looked down and slipped. I throw out my hands to steady myself, throwing the hammer in my hand flying, and put my foot through the roof. I manged to get my foot out, and get back to the ladder, making my way down. Only to be greeted at the bottom by my aunty Molly looking cross and uncle Stan on the floor with broken glasses, a huge lump on his head and covered in blood. In my defence, who sends a child up a ladder to fix a roof?!

The was another time that I as on holiday on the south coast of England, in lovely little village called whittering. My daddy took me and my sister off to do a spot of crabbing. I was walking along a wall by the sea, lost in my own little world of fluffy unirons and rainbows, when my daddy yelled at me to look what I was doing. Slightly startled I turned to look at him but kept walking. Not looking where I was going, I came to the end of said wall and walked straight off the end of it. I don’t recall very much after that, apart from getting back to are tent, covered in very smell, sticky mud, and sore arm. Frog marched to the shower, by my hopping mad nana, and scrubbed clean, I remember saying my wrist hurt and felt funny. Nana when running to get my daddy and I was taken to A&E. after x-rays, a doctor said I had a displaced fracture and that it would need to be put back in place and then plastered. Daddy thought I would need to be asleep to have that done, but no, the doctor just pulled it there and then. Bloody hurt! My sister Sophie, still to this day takes the micky out of my over it by mocking the ‘Agrgh oww aghrrr’ that I apparently made when I fell off the wall!

I some how manged to get to the age of 16 without killing myself or anybody else. Then I got my first job working in McDonalds. (oh, the shame). Well I made through the first week ok. I was being trained on the grill and the manger was telling me about the ‘ansle system’ . it was, as I remember a fire extensor thing that you pushed if the grill court on fire. It would cover the grill and everything around it in a yellow powder. Well all was going so well when I stooped down to do up my shoe lace, getting up I sort of head butted the manager training me in the nuts, and stepping back in shock and horror, and bumped in to something with my bum. Next thing I knew the whole of the grill area, backroom and half the front counter were covered in yellow powder. Luck for me the manger saw the funny side to this and did not sack me. That’s not to say I did not have any more accidents, nope they still happened. I stumbled filing up the shake machine and poured 10 little of shake mix down my front, I got my hand stuck in the inside of a yellow wet floor sign and had to sit in the walk-in chiller till my hand cooed off and I could get it out. Oh, and I manged to knock myself out, by tripping and head butting a customer.

I decided to stop for the day with them after I sort of eltricuted a rather vile floor manager. I was putting the shake machine together one morning, when I need to get some more lube from the stoke room. So off I went to get it, but I only got half way before the was a big bang, a scream and the lights went out. Running back to the front counter to find said floor manger laying on the floor, looking dazed and confused, holding a burnt hand up. Turns out she thought I had finished, tried to pull a shake and something was exposed or stuck. She tried to push it back, but it decided to fiddle with it and got a shock, in every sense of the word.

As I moved on to university and things calmed down a little on the accident front. Sure, I set off the fire alarms in halls at least once a week and the were hundreds of times I got locked out of my room, but that happens to everyone right? I worked in shop in Camden market for a while and was asked to clean out the loft space with collige on Sunday. They went up first, followed by me. but I missed a rung of the ladder, slide down, hitting my chine on the loft opening, splitting it open. The ladder went flying, I fell flat on my face, knocking myself out and leaving said colleague stranded in the loft.

After university was done with and my working life started the accidents kept happening. I set fire to a bin in a workroom, I tripped, and head butted a window in a meeting room, and I dislocated a knee by kneeling on a very hard floor. When I made the move to working in the film industry, I took a lot more care, making sure I did not do a ‘Pixie’. I kept hurting myself to myself, I mean it’s not fair to inflict other people with unneeded booboos!

After my break up with my ex and the full out from that, well everyone wanted to wrap me in cotton wool, so I went through a good amount of time without hurting myself. But that was not for want of trying. I mean I was not allowed to use a razor without someone watching me, knives, and scissors where out of bounds and I was not allowed to shower with the bathroom door shut for a good 12 months. (If I sound flippant or blazed about this, I’m not, I promise. But the way I deal with trying to kill myself and the full out from it is by poking fun at it). But in spite of this I still dropped things, broke things, and got ouchies. My darling Maîtriser was one of the first people in my life to say “Pixie, you are just clumsy. You don’t mean it to happen, its just how you are built.”. He put rules to lessen the chances of my hurting myself, but also saw that being watch 24/7 was not helping me get better. So, he gave me free time and I was allowed a 20 min bath every day, with a closed bathroom door. I love him so much for trusting me and believing in me. (ok depressing part over)

Not to say I stop having accident altogether, but they are a lot less now. Well I did have a big one dusting. You see I was dusting the DVD unit thing in the living room. I was moving the sky box, thinning bob, tripped on the mat, knocked over the vase of flowers, and pulling the tv bizarre all at the same. Water went over the plugs and tv, the was a massive bang, smoke, and total loss of power. I still don’t know what or how ii did it put half my street was without and had to have generators for the weekend. I have also broken a dishwasher, 3 microwaves and a washing machine trying to fix things. So now if something is not working right I must tell Babe and let her fix it. I am also not allowed a posh phone like an iPhone as I have a habit of cracking screens or dropping them.
O you can see why some people say knowing pixie can be bad for your health. But the Boss Man says I’m just accident prone and he loves me for it. It just means he gets to look after me a little harder.

Well I hope that my Misfortune has made you at least smile,

Hugs,
Pixie x

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

And still….

It’s 4 am, and I’m still wide awake. My heart hurts, my bones ache, I still taste you on my lips. Every time I close my eyes, images of the last few days dance across my mind, in beautiful vivid colour. I still feel the burning touch of you fingers, as they traced circles over skin. You left only a few hours ago, but with in moment of the door closing behind you, I was hit with the craving for you. I try to fight my addiction for you, and still I want more of you.

I’m laid on the crumpled sheets, where your musky scent lingers, long after you have left. I play back the passion and energy of are love making from the night before. We matched each other, move for move. Instinctively knowing what the other need. You were gentle and loving when I needed, commanding and strong when I needed you to be, and still I let you get up and walk out the door .

Sitting up I see you tie still knotted to the head board, reminding me of how you tied my heads out of the way, causing me to blush. I give up ideas of sleep, pushing myself up and out of bed. stopping to look at my reflection in the mirror, gazing at my body. My bruised breast, puff lower lip and hair that is a tozzled mess. I feel the blush creep from my core, burning like fire. I can’t look away, and still I need your arms round me to make me believe everything you said.

Closing my eyes, drawing in a steading breath, holding on to my dressing table for support. My mind is playing tricks on me, I could swear I heard the door open and soft foot steps coming towards me. then I feel your hands take a firm grip of my arm and my eyes fly open as you spin my round to face you, kissing me and pulling to your chest. Then come the only word I need to know. “I’m staying, I still love you”

For Little Bear, cos even when you drive me mad, I will always love you! x

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

The little things that mean so much.

Over the weekend I was struggling with some stuff. My sisters were being spiteful and unhelpful. My body decided to not like me and cause me to be in shit load of pain. (I had to take oral morphine on Friday night). MY work load is crazy busy, with only being 2 weeks till Crufts. Adding to the stress was my mother being vile and falling off the waggon, again! All this left me feeling low and very tearful. Luckily, I have great support at home and we found ways round all of it. I also with permission reached out to people on twitter. It was Saturday night Sunday morning, that I read a tweet by @Girly_Juice about how her Daddy had ordered her a pizza, as she was too emotionally discombobulated to figure out how to get food and feed herself. (we have all been there). It was a lovely, caring and extremely romantic thing to do, and proves he is a great Daddy. It also made me think about all the things that my family do for me that show how much they love me. yes, they are big some pretty big thing, like going to treatment with me or going to therapy with me or stepping in when everyday life overwhelms me. But the things that mean the most, are the little things. I said to maîtriser that I was grateful for all the little things that he and the girls do to help me or to show me I’m loved. He liked this a great deal, deciding that I should make a list of 5 things for each of the family, as a kind of giving back and mindfulness task for me. So here goes!

Maîtriser:
• Lunch time phone call, that always starts with ‘How’s my girl?”
• Sitting with me to do help me with my homework on Tuesday nights and Sunday afternoons.
• Works from home for on Thursday, to look after the babies, so I can go to college.
• Sits with me while I do Lego or crafts, writing and talking to me.
• Deals with all my finances, so I don’t have to and, so I don’t need deal with family members asking for finical help.
Babe:
• Will wash ad dry my her when I’m stressed.
• Encouraged and help me plan written and verbal pitches for course ideas.
• Goes to Doctor appointments with me.
• Make my ‘little’ dinners and lunches.
• Will sit with me when I’m freaking out and helps me figure out why and helps me calm down.
Kitten:
• Always willing to cuddle in bed or on the sofa.
• Always has words of comfort when I’m stressed
• Has stood up to my sisters when they are being super mean.
• Lets me fuss over her when she’s poorly.
• Will sit with while I have a bath and make me giggle about stuff.
Little Bear:
• Always able to make me giggle not matter how crap feel.
• Let me tech her how to cook and clean house.
• Act silly and asks me to explain things.
• Lets me fuss over her and always asks if I can do things with her.
• Put me as her next of kin.
So, there it is. To be fair I could have come up with hundreds for them, but I think he wanted me to really think about them carefully. What it makes me see that I really do love the bunch of nutters!

From the heart, musings of pixie heart.

A biker through and through.

It hit me this morning while I was sat feeding the babies, I have been a biker in one way or another for 33 years this year. It made me think about what a big part of my life they have been and hopefully continue to be. Then it hit me I have never really talked or shared much about my love of motorbikes with you lovely lot. This is something I feel that needs to be fixed as soon as possible, so that is what this post aims to do.

I guess you could say that motorbikes are in my blood. My Granddah was a biker, my daddy and all his brothers are bikers. My daddy is a hard core, old school biker. He was very much a rocker growing up and has always had a motorbike. He can, due to his mental health problems, be a little obsessive about things and is very much an all or nothing sort of person. He and my mother always wanted a son, so when they had me, and my mother found out she could not have more children, they were left heart broken that they did not have the son they wanted. My mother resented me for it, but my daddy didn’t. no, I may not be a boy, but I could still do ‘Boy’ things. So, I was the one he took fishing with him, taught how to climb trees, encouraged to get muddy at every opportunity and passed his love of motorbikes on too. Much to my mother’s outrage. I was a true daddy’s girl and a tom boy.

Some of my earliest memories involve motorbikes. Dad would go and tinker with bikes at my Granddah and nana’s house. His brothers and Granddah would all be there, tinkering, drinking tea, and talking about life. I was about 3 when dad started taking me. I would be sat on the work bench, sitting on a biscuit tin, Sippy cup of milk and allowed to pass spanners and bits to who ever was passing by. I also remember my Granddah taking me for rides on his old James. They were stationery rides, with Granddah sat behind me and he would tell me all his stories about his adventures in as a boy in Belfast and his war time antics in the mild-east.

When I turned 6 my daddy bought my first scrambler and taught me to ride it. When most girls were doing ballet and gymnastics, I was learning how to fall off a motorbike. I decided to learn trials ridding and with in a few years I was competing and loving it. I don’t think I was ever going to be a graceful dancer or a talent musician, but I could ride. It is the reason me and my daddy were so close. My mother hated that I had a love of bikes and ridding, but even my nana stuck up for me when she tried to make me stop. Having to sisters who shone in everything they did, this was my way of being good at something they weren’t.

As I got older I kept up my love of bikes, but also developed a love of the whole culture that goes with them. When I turned 18 I jumped feet first in to the world of Bikers and the festivals that go with them. It is weird, but I never felt unsafe or disrespected once. The guys I hung out with always excepted me as one of their own. I guess I was lucky.
I started going to drag racing meets and road races, then I started to help in the pits and then I started to test the bikes. I one day got asked if I wanted to do a timed run and jumped at the chance. That was the start of me racing, it was one of the happiest times of my life. It was one of the only places I felt relaxed and safe enough to let down my guard a little.

When I split with my ex and all the fall out from that happened, I sort of lost touch with my biker friends. Not due to them not wanting to know what had happened, but it was more a way to punish myself. Bikes were my happy place, and I felt that I did not deserve to be happy. Stupid I know, but I was sick at the time. After treatment maîtriser encouraged me to start to get back in to it. A biker and he went to a thing at the Ace café in London with me on a date. It was there that I refound my friends and feel back in to biking.

Now I ride whenever I get the chance. I take more care now, as a mother I will not run any chance of my little ones not having their mother around. But I still ride, and I will tech them to ride when they are old enough. I have my little side now and I have become a lot more girlie, but I am still the same biker at heart, just in lilac and Disney now. (my crash helmet has tinker bell on it). The guys I ride with know about my D/s side, and except it, as they do pretty much anything.

So that is me and my biker side!

 

Pixie x
ps – Written For the best biker ever, my Daddy.

Eroticon, family update, From the heart, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail

Where in the world is Pixie Heart?

So, I have been posting and been around, but not really been ‘Around ‘of late. By that I mean I have been a little distant, a little distracted and felt a little bit outside of things. It’s not the nicest of feelings in the world, hell it’s horrid, but it has been kind of unavoidable really.

Why? I hear you cry. Well for one I have been rushed off my feet getting ready for Crufts. I’m not only working and teaching at the event this year, but all my dogs are there too. Don’t get me wrong it will be amazing, it is amazing every year, but it’s a planning and logistical nightmare. My boss has been epicly helpful and said that the babies can work on the stand. Basically, they are going to be strapped to different people in their carries and used to itemise people to come say hello. Which they are going to love as they love having chats and meeting people!

Then we come to the Elephants in the room. The big nasty that is Cancer has struck my family. My Uncle Keith had been struggling with chest infections and breathing difficulties for the last couple of months and his GP finally sent him for a chest x-ray. It sadly showed that he had tumours on his lungs. Well after scans and biopsies, it turns that the is nothing that can be done. It is a very aggressive cancer, it has spread, and he has a matter of months left. Then the is my mother’s cancer. We had thought she was going to beat it, but sadly not. The treatment is not working, the is nothing else that will work, and she has 3 to 6 months left. Now I may seem a little like I don’t really care about the fact they are both going to die. I do, I care very much, but I don’t see the point in sitting round wailing over it. Cancer is a bastered of an illness, it has taken a lot of people I love. It kills people slowly and painful. The best thing I can do is stay strong, keep going and be there when people need me. I have a life and people who need me to keep going, not crumble in to a ball and give up.

I have a lot of good things in pipe line. For all the stress it brings I am looking forward to crufts. I get to see my friends and shop for my dogs! Then the is Eroticon the weekend after. Lol I’m treating it as a holiday. No husband, babies, dogs, or house work for a weekend, in London, on my own! Truthfully, I’m terrified, but I’m going if it kills me. It will be good for me on so many levels, I just have keep moving the worry and doubts I have about myself and my abilities. Lol the Boss man said if I get through it on my own I get 20 reward stickers. The 5 days leading up to Eroticon I am teaching secturely dog handlers. which is always fun!

The changes I made with the help of the boss man at the start of the year have finally started to make them selves know so to speak. I’m happier and less stressed. I’m sleeping better and coping with some of the crap that life throws at me. my health, is getting better and I’ve stopped freaking out if I get a sniffle or cough. My writing schedule is working amazingly well and I’m making time to write more than I thought I would. It is amazing that by giving the boss man more control and having a heap more structure in my day, how much happier it makes me and the more settled I become. I had some say recently that they don’t know how I cope with being in something that is so high protocol and that the rules I have are too restrictive for me to feel truly happy. but it is in fact the other way around for me. Without the protocols, rule, and structure, I feel lost, anxious, and deeply unhappy. What I have would not work for may people, but it does work for me.

Well that turned in to a rant rumble, but hay hum!

Pixie x

From the heart, Poly life

I’m a little, but….

What springs to mind when you think of a ‘Little’? Cute little girls and boys, in rompers, with dippers, Sippy cups and pacifiers? Brats, throwing temper tantrums? Submissive baby girls and boys with their Dominate care givers? Well you would be right and wrong, because like with all kinks the title ‘Little’ is not a one fits all title. The are the, stereotypes and for me I never thought that I fit any of them. But after talking to people and doing a little reading up on it, I came to a shocking discovery about myself, I have a little side, however I had kept it so well hidden from myself and others, that to look at me you would never know!

I guess looking back on things I just did fit in to the serotypes I had in my head. I mean I’m not a baby girl or a brat. I’m not into age play, I don’t want to call my Dom daddy and I don’t like being treated like a child. I don’t want a Sippy cup or pacifier, nor do I want dippers and onesies. I’m not a girlie girl, more of a tomboy. I raced motor bikes, boxed, and played rugby. I have always been the grown up one, take care of other people and keep everything running smoothly.

But after reading some great articles and talking to some fabulously stereotypical littles, I did a bit of a 360 on the little idea. When I talked to Maîtriser about it, I admitted to him and myself that I thought I might be a little, just not your normal run of the mill little. A pixie type little, different and unique like every other little or person in the world. So, we talked some more and researched a lot more together and we found are fit. We decided to try adding in a care giver / little aspect to are dynamic. Little by little and see how it went.

One of the first things Maîtriser had me do was sit down and make a list of things I felt made me a little. Top of the list was my love of colouring books and Lego, my love of unicorns and fairies, my love of Disney and Pixar films. Then I came to my habits o being shy and getting over excited by things. The was my hate of having to be in charge, the fact I love him ‘looking after’ me and that if left to my own devices in will getting in to some sort of trouble.

With this list we decided to make a few changes to day to day life. First thing we did, at home was bring all the things I did in privet, that I classed as ‘Being little’, out in the open. I learnt that it was ok to sit and colour or do Lego. We also added a few rules like a bedtime, holding hands when outside and being given weekly spending money. It was also around this time that I asked Maîtriser to take over my finance and gave him a little more control over my day to day life. We also discovered that I have a love of thing like kinky sleepovers, love being called princess and having my cloths picked out for me.

That was 18 months ago, and I will now proudly say ‘I’m a little’. I have found it to be a very freeing thing, but I keep it hidden from the outside world. I have found that I’m not in to age play, adult baby thing or being bratty. I also don’t see myself as a typical baby girl. What I have found with my little space is that it is the place I go when I’m stressed or not coping with the big bad world. It is a place I get to be me and breath. It’s when Maîtriser takes over the thinking for me and looks after me. it’s full of lights, laughter, and cuddles. It’s a place I can be free and silly. But above all it’s unique and everything I never knew I needed.

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

Me and my Collar.

Me and my Collar.
Collar within the BDSM and D/s scene can have many different meanings. From Protection and safety, to ownership and control, to love a devotion. They can be worn all the time, only when playing and sometimes only when with a the dominate. They can be a simple chain necklace, or a fancy ribbon collar to a more traditional leather buckle collar.

I am admittedly a little bit of a collar addict, as I love that I can have a different look or style of collar for different occasions. But I have 3 main types of collar I wear. Firstly, I have my day collar, that is worn most of the time. It is a simple silver chain that is joined in the front with a large sliver O-ring and a smaller silver on ring. The large O-ring represents Maîtriser and the smaller one is me, the are linked together like we are. I’m not allowed to take this off, unless it is a medical emergency. Next are what we call ‘Bedroom collars’. They are the ones I sleep in and wear if we are playing in the bedroom. They are simple ribbon and webbing collars that have a d-ring at the from and to larger ones at the back, that are used to close the collar, either with ribbon or a padlock. Maîtriser or Babe will change my day collar to my bedroom collar at bedtime and then back to my day collar when I get up in the morning. Lastly, I have my play collars. These are leather buckle collars. They are worn when ever we are playing outside the bed room, go to clubs, are around other kink friendly or when Maîtriser says he wants me to wear on. They all have locking buckles so one of my heart padlocks locks me in to them. The is a d-ring at the front that has one of my tags on it. My tags simply read Mouse, my pet name from Maîtriser. They don’t have owned or property of on them, as Maîtriser says he like people to know that I’m his willing submissive and that it was 100% my choice. 3 of my leather collars have spikes on then, this is my way of saying ‘yep I’ll talk to you but touch me without mine and maîtriser permission and I’ll bite!’ I also have a collection of charms and bells that I lave for my bedroom and play collar. The charms are to sort of change the look for my mood. The bells are for when I get in a strop and start stomping round. I get told to not make the bells jangle and in doing that calms me down. Although I do love the jingle it makes when I get fucked hard!

I have a few rules around my collars as well. They are:
• The only people allowed to change my collar are Maîtriser, Babe or Sir Beasty.
• I’m allowed to remove my collar if I must have treatment, scans, or medical emergency.
• I’m allowed to choose what collar, tag, charms, or bells I want to wear on my collar, but maîtriser must ok my choice and but the collar around my neck.
• I must not allow people to touch my collar without asking me and maîtriser first.
• When I’m having my collar changed I am to kneel and hold my hair out of the way.
• I can have an agree upon other change my collar or help me change my collar if maîtriser or babe are not with me.

My collar/s mean a lot of things to me. The are a sign of my submission, that I have a Dom and belong to him. It’s a sign that I am loved, protected, and cared for. It is some thing that brings me great joy and a sense of pride in myself. It makes me believe I am strong and that I am safe to be who I am. It is something that brings me a sense of calm and peace, and I draw strength from it. Lol my boss, who is kink friendly and knows I’m collared says, he can see how much my collar having has help me and how much it means to me. by the fact that when I stand up to teach or give a speech my hand goes straight to my collar.

Well that is little bit about my collars and what they mean to me. hope you enjoyed it!
Pixie x