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!

Masturbation Monday, musings of pixie heart., Poly life, socail

That time in the carpark, For Sir Beasty.

We, as a family are high protocol, but we are quite relaxed about them a lot of the time. However, the are 3 places that maîtriser does not allow practical to be relaxed at all, the bedroom, clubs, or the gym.

The Boss Man is a little bit of a gym rat and takes really good care of himself. In turn he expects us girls to take care of ourselves. When we are at the gym we are to do are workout or training. Quietly, correctly and without drawing to much attention to are selves. Phones are allowed, but on silent and no taking of selfies.
Well imagen if you will a day when this little pixie was feeling a little bit brassy (shout out to Kayla Lords and John Brownstone for my new favourite word!). I had thrown a strop, well as good as I can throw a strop about not wanting to go to the gym and wanting to stay home and cuddle.
The Boss Man was having none of that, nope he dragged my whiny butt to the gym and told me to quite stropping or else. So, I did, but I decide to send boob pics to Sir Beasty. Something I can do if I ask maîtriser first, but I didn’t ask!

Well 5 minutes later my phone pinged loudly and then rang even louder. I squeaked, jumped, and dropped my phone. Scrambling to pick it up and turn it off. I managed to kick over my water bottle that just happened to have the cap of and the contesens went all over the floor.

Hearing and seeing all this, the boss man sauntered over, clad in his grey sweat pants, pleasingly tight blue t-shirt, and trainers. Looking pissed off beyond belief and with a wicked glint in his eye. He snatched my phone out of my hand, scowled through it, and shoved it back at me with a growl. Turning and walking off, but not before he said, ‘you’re working out with me now little one’. Words that send fear straight to my heart when I misbehave and we are at the gym. I grab up my things and scurry after him, and then the punishment starts. He makes me not only run, but do my legs and core work out, demanding perfect form and execution. by the time his was done with me, I’m a sweaty mess and not in a good way. He snarls in a low growl to get showed and changed and meet him in the foyer in 10 mins. Then his gone and I haul ass to get showered and ready in 10 minutes.

I just about managed to get done with my shower and changed in the allotted time. Still doing up the last two buttons of my dress, I find him stood chatting and smiling, in the lobby with big Steve. He was his normal warm and loving self. Giving me a hug and kiss on the head. He takes hold of my hand and for a minute I thought I was safe, that my punishment was over. How wrong could I be. As soon as we are out the building, he sped up his pace and his happy demine disappears. When we get to the car I stop and wait for the car door is opened, but all he does is was snatch my bag from my hand and throws them in the trunk with his own. Slamming it shut he, turns around, grabs me round the waist pulling me to him and turning at the same time so I have my back to him. Biting my neck and pulling my dress open, he tells me what a bad girl I’ve been. Roughly manhandling my boobs, he drags me from the side of the car to rear, forcing me to bend over trunk, face down, butt up!

The next thing I feel is the cool spring breeze on my bare bum as he rips my panties off and pulls my dress up over my rear. Then Comes a growl and I’m told to count. Next is the shock, jolt and sting of his hand meeting my bare skin. He has a way of spanking me that not only stings and leaves a lovely bruise, but also shocks and send a shudder to my core.

The slaps rain down on me, one after the other, and all the time I count allowed, knowing to well if I cry out or stop counting, I’ll just end up with more. I end up getting 15 on each cheek, and as always with spankings I’m turned on. Adding to the excitement and pleasure is my love of playing in in public spaces, and well I was a very wet little mouse. Knowing this you he decides to check that I’m not enjoying it too much. He roughly sticks his fingers in my dripping wet cunt and tells me how much of a bad girl I am. One hand pushdown on my neck and the other continues to fuck my hungry pussy.

Then he stands up and growls ‘open’ and kicks my feet apart. If I did not know what was coming, I hear him undoing his belt and drawing down his fly. I feel him moving closer, his hand on my bum, the heat coming from his groan. But his first thrust is so sharp and sudden that it is almost painful, and it causes me to half scream, half gasp in pleasure. One of his hands goes on my neck, holding me down. The other pulls me closer to him and then holds my hip to keep me in place. Each thrust is hard and deep, and painfully slow. Then he gives an extra hard thrust, that draws a scream from deep inside me.

It’s then I hear a door opening and music flittering out from the Italian restraint that is below the gym. I hear a shocked gasp and feel a rumbling laugh from the Boss Man. I turn my head, to the side and my eyes meet with that of a shocked looking man from the rest ant. It is then that it hits me full force, I’m be fucked, bent over the trunk of a car in a carpark, that although is not on a busy main road. The are train going by, as well as cars and busses. Knowing that anyone can see us, and we could get in to a heap of trouble, makes me gasp and clench his cock tighter and makes me wetter than ever.

He keeps my head turned and tells me to watch the guy from the restraint. His fucking becomes harder, if that is possible and god help me, but I start fucking him back, wanting to put on a show. The guy watching is clearly liking what he is seeing. I let my moans turn to screams as I watch him rubbing his cock through his trousers. I start to beg to bellowed to come, but the boss man tells me to hold it. His close, I can feel him swell inside me. I start clenching and adding a twist of my hips as I fuck him back.

With a shout of ‘good girl’ he comes with savage thrust and then he shouts’ come for me little one, now’ and that is just what I do. I scream as I’m hit with a climax that makes me see stars, feel like I’m being split in half and loose all sense of what is going on around me.

 

When I come back down to earth I relies that Boss man is laid on top of me, with all his weight on top of me, squashing me a little, in a totally delouse way. Sweating and panting, he stands up, pulling my dress down to cover my well fucked cunt and glowing bum. He pulls me upright and in to a demanding kiss. Bundling me in to the car, waving at the guy who had been watching us. I now I’m going home to face some more punishment in the bed room and the shower, but that’s for another time 😉

 

http://masturbationmonday.kaylalords.com/masturbation-monday-182/

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, 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

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

Protectors, guides, and mentors.

So, a few months ago kink craft had an article and podcast about protectors and their role with in the kink community. (John brownstone and Kayla Lords were guest on the podcast). It was a great article and had excellent points. It got me thinking about my own experiences of ‘Protectors’ and wanting to know other options of them I asked on Twitte what others thought of them. Well that was opening a big old can of worms!

People have a lot of very strong opinions of them, both good and bad. The general opinion was that most people who offer to act as ‘Protectors’, are in fact abusive predators and should be avoided like the plague. That some responsibility needs to newbies in doing their own research and being as prepared as they can be. That ‘protectors’ have more of a mentor role. That Doms and Subs new to the kink scene Could use a Mentor or a guide. And above all, always stay ‘Sane. Safe and Consensual’.
I personally hate the term protector or protection. Those terms making me think of the mafia or a brand of condoms. However, I do think that the is a place of protectors in the kink world. Hell, I don’t just think it, I see it as the responsibility of people how have been in the life style for a while to keep an eye on newbies and stand up to people who are likely to course harm to them.

Thankfully the kink scene has a few awesome people who do keep an eye on newbies and keep the A-holes at bay.
My first personal taste of a protector was when I met kitten and she took me to my very first fetish club. I was only 18 and at the time very vulnerable. It was that night that she introduces me to her Dom, a fresh faced 34-year-old boss man. (aww I forgot he was that young once). He sat and chatted to me, pointing out things and explaining stuff. He also introduced me to all the trustworthy and friendly people and pointed out the people who I should avoided like the plague.

We as a family have from time to time acted as a sort of guide to newbies. Showing people around, introducing them to people, explaining term and etiquette. Also pointing the A-holes and wirdos. (I have a picture of sir Beasty going ‘WIRDOs’ and ROTFLMAO’)

Us girls also acted as what I guess you would call mentors, but I would call it more of a friend and being open and approachable. We have all been around and active in kink, on some level for a lot of years. (Babe has been for 21 years, but I’m not saying she is old, just mature, and sexy as hell). We will take newbie subs under are wing, answering questions, explaining things, sharing safe and informative rescores and inviting them to come to events with us. The Boss Man has also acted as a mentor many times. He first got in to kink and BDSM when he was 22 and is 53 now. (his sexy as hell though). He does pretty much the same as we do but will also teach or show them how to use floggers and canes and the like.

Now I’m going to share the reason babe actively act as a mentor / protector. On a night out in a club in London in early 2006 the was a newbie male sub, who was trying to get in with the hardcore mistresses who put on a great show and had these amazing sub, who were willing to do anything. Well to cut a long story short this poor guy took GHB and went on to have a bad reaction, now that is bad part. The good part was a very well known at respected female Dom saw what had happened, had her 2-male sub to calmly move him to the side, then took it on her shoulders to take care of this poor guy. Make sure someone sat with him, made him drink water, got him food, kept him warm and went as far as making sure he got home and that the was someone sober stayed with him till he was sober. It really impacts on babe in a big way. I think it is one of the ways that make Babe the way she is as a Dom.

I’m going to say here that as a family we believe that if People in the BDSM, kinky and fetish Scenes want to be seen in a positive manner, they sold act and play in a responsible, none judgemental way. So why would they not wanted support and encourage new people and offer them protection.

As with anything in are little family we do things a little differently, cos we are us. Maîtriser always says that our safety and well being is the most important thing in the world to him. But the are 4 of us at home and he only has one set of arms and one set of eyes. So, we have rule and regs to keep us safe and to give him peace of mind. Are rules being: No going out after 10pm on our own. No going to pubs or clubs on are own. If 3 of us are drinking, 1 of us must stay sober. No playing in clubs with out babe with us. If in doubt, ask yourself What Would Babe do. (WWBD)

We also have a list of real world and online friends that act as sort of protectors for me and the girls. They are known as ‘pre-agreed others’ and are listed at the back of are contracts we have with maîtriser. The are there to keep an eye on us, but we can also turn to them for advice and guidance if we need it. This was added to are rules, not because he does not trust us. But we have had issues with other people in the past and we all wanted to feel as safe as we can be. The list is full of people that us girls and maîtriser feel we can trust totally

For me the whole safety thing has been huge part of my recovery from Domestic violence and has helped me to rebuild my life. I sometimes think people might see it as me going from one controlled relationship to an even more controlling relationship. But 80% of my rules are there at my asking. They are there to make me feel safe, and thus keeping me happy and healthy. Some of my rules: Who I can and can’t talk to. The amount of contact I have with my family. Social media, email and phone checked when ever maîtriser asks and that my blog is co by Sir Beasty. I asked for these as when I get sick I ide things and with these in place, the slightest sign that I’m getting sick, the boss man will step in and stop it getting worse.

So that is My thoughts and take on things. What works for me and the family, may not work for you, but it works for us. What I will say is you should always do your research, take your time to think, don’t rush. Stay sane, safe, and consensual. be careful who you trust. If something feels wrong in your gut, trust it, and remove yourself the situation. But above all safety first!

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

Endless Possibilities – Being part of an open poly family.

So, I was sat moaning to poor Sir Beasty, about not having anything to write about and how I was one post short for my seven I needed to post this week. He said, ‘write about the possibilities of being in an open poly family’. (I think he may have been fed up with my moaning). But it hit me, I talk endlessly about the D/s side of are little family, but not so much the poly side of things. So, liking Besty’s idea a great deal, I decided to write about it!

Now first things first I guess I should explain are ‘Family’ dynamic a little. Well briefly the is 1 straight man living with 4 bi-sexual women. (I know he is a lucky man). At home we all classes each other as partners and we are pretty much equal, but we do also have are D/s side and that will always be part of a poly side as well. All of us girls are sub to the boss man and we are pretty high on the old protocol side of things, so of course this plays in to are poly dynamic. I’m also going to say that we do not class are selves as swingers. For us playing with people or fucking is not something we can do with out feeling an emotional connection with someone. Don’t get me wrong the is nothing wrong with swinging, but it’s not for us. (your kink is not my kink and that is ok)

Now leaving the boss man out of things for a minute, I’m going to explain us girls dynamic and how it fits in to the ‘Family’ When it comes to playing and sex. Babe is the family switch, she dates people away from the family, but is also a driving force behind a lot of are fun and play at home. Kitten, Little Bear, and myself are subbie with her and she is kind of second in charge. Kitten is sub and is free to date and play away from the family, but Babe and Maîtriser have the right to step in and stop her doing so if they think that it is harming her mental health. Little bear does Has a Daddy/ fences but is also Sub to maîtriser and Babe. She can date and play away from her family but chooses not to at the moment. Then the is little old me, I’m married to maîtriser and his sub. I don’t date outside of the family and I don’t play or fuck anyone else without maîtriser or babe being with me (ok so I can play with kitten and little bear). I do this through choice and not because of rules. It’s more the fact that I draw strength from having them with me and I feel more relaxed with them with me.

Us girls Go on are Girl dates and this is where we get to have some fun! We all love flirting, teasing, and getting phone numbers. We can kiss who ever we want as long as we have the other girls in sight. But the is no taking people home or disappearing outside. If we are drinking, someone (normally me or Babe) stays sober, just in case. Maîtriser says when we go for a ‘Big ‘night out it’s like we are hunting in a pack and the men and women of where ever we are going should watch out!

At home we fuck and play pretty much when and where we want too! If we ask maîtriser first. We also have people who join us in are kinky fuckery from time to time. In kind of a kinky sleep over (I don’t like the word orgies, they sound kind of dirty). The girls can also have people stay over, if they let us all know first, if they play safe and if the person understands and Is respectful of are set up. We also have rules around play and sex. We always stay safe, sane, and consensual. We don’t play if we don’t want to or don’t feel like it. If we bring anyone else in to playing with us, we all must agree. But above we never make each other feel awkward if we don’t want to play.

We also invited people to join us in D/s senses as well. Normally Dom / Switch males who don’t mind following directions, And Dom women who can do the same. We also have a lot of playmates who are Sub female, who’s Doms let them join in are fun and games. Now I mentioned ‘as long as they can take direction’ bit, well this is because Maîtriser is a big old vouarist and loves telling people what to do us girls. (one of the reasons he is known as the boss man). So, when we have others in sense with us he is normally sat at the side, getting his rocks of to us playing to are hearts content. The fact that we all have very naughty exebishunest streaks means that we a happy to play like this and make him proud.For me on a personal level, I find playing with other amazingly good for my self-esteem, but I need to know the person first and need to trust them. My ex would bring other women and men home and expect me to want to fuck them, but now I get to bring people I want to screw in to the mix and I can say no whenever I want. I prefer Maîtriser or Babe with me and I love being told what to do. But that is more my submissive side than anything else. Oh, and I am always looking for new playmates!

So, to us being part of an ‘Open’ Poly family really does hold a world of possibility’s and we love the little, twisted family that we are. So that is my take on it! What does Open mean to you?
Pixie x

From the heart, musings of pixie heart., socail

A year in the writing.

A year in the writing.
Last week my blog turned a year old! Most people who blog seem to do a giveaway or celebrate big time. Well with things being a bit rough over the last few weeks, I sort of for got about it. Maîtriser and the girls didn’t forget about it. I got loads of little presents form the girls and Maîtriser let me cook a big family dinner, with chocolate rice pudding for afters. But I’m still a little bummed that I did not really mark it, I mean it for me has been a big step and huge achievement for so many reasons. It has meant that I have been able to share my thoughts, get things out of my head and breath. It started out with me wanting to share goes on in my family in a positive light, but it quickly became so much more. I found that I like writing and I love the fact I can be creative in ways I never thought I could be. It has gone from being something I enjoyed doing, to something that I feel I need and want to do more of. I have made friends, ginned confidence and no longer feel like I need to hide who I really am.
I have also learned stuff about writing that I simply had no idea about. I mean dear god where was I when other people were learning about this grammar and punctuation crap? Sentence have rules and regulation? Proud to say that my spelling is better, I turn my grammar and spell check on now and I write in English now. Making a whole lot easier to post things that make sense to the public. Believe me writing in Gaelic and then translating it in to English is a pain in the bum, and not I a good way! But I’m going to share the things that I have learnt that have had the biggest impact on my writing.
Consistency is the key – I have gone from having no writing routine at all, to make myself sit down and write for an hour a day, to the point now that it is not a task but a habit. I have turned the box room in to a writing space, quiet, still, and warm. My little space to sit and write. I have also found that making myself blog at least once a week has help me fight some pretty harsh demon, that seem to like dancing on my self-esteem a lot. But it also keeps me connected to people and the outside world.
Edit like you mean it – looking back now over early blog posts I am shocked at how bad my spelling was and how badly edited they are. I have started for bigger pieces started using and editor (Aedan O’Healy). His got me doing Self editing thing that means I read it, reread it, and read, then post it. So now my work looks heaps more professional!
Plan, plan and plan some more – Ok so I am in my Realtime life a habitual planner. I love sitting down with a planner and getting things in order. I find it calming and helpful with my day to day life. But planning out something I’m going to write is so helpful and keeps me on track with what I’m writing. It has curbed my waffling and rambling, leading to me writing faster and with less fluff that was not needed.
Connect with other bloggers and readers – the sex blogging community, for the most part is amazing, and I love them. They have been a source of inspiration and encouragement. As have people who read my blog, I find it hard to get my head round the fact that people give a crap about what I write. I really do feel blessed to now have so many epic friends in my life!
Memes, Such fun! – So, the are loads of super fun kinky writing memes out there, Masturbation Monday, Kink of the week and Wicked Wednesday. They are great fun to take part in, et the creative juices flowing and inspire some Smutty writing! They have also got me thinking out side the box, working to limits and sticking to a dead line!
Find your spot, be unique and be yourself – So the biggest thing I have learned, is that I have a spot in the blogging world, that I am in lots of ways unique and that people like me when I’m just me! I can inspirer to be like people and like what they do, but I can’t be them and that is ok, cos they can’t be me either!
So that is what I have found after a year of blogging, shall we see where the next year takes us?

Hugs,
Pixie x