socail

Burlesque by Posy Churchgate

Good evening ladies and gentleman. May I call your attention to the center stage this evening? Posy Churchgate has gracialy agreed to tantalize, to entertain and, to excite us this evening. I give you…

 

Burlesque

The lights are low, enveloping the diners in darkness and anonymity.  Every pair of eyes is on the stage as she weaves her way to the raised area picked out by bright ellipses from the spotlights.  Her costume is skimpy, belly-dancer exotic but the main impact is made by the intricate, bright artwork on her skin and glints from the many piercings in her ears, eyebrows, and transdermally on her torso.

We’ve all eaten a fancy meal (included in the price) and enjoyed a cocktail, along with additional drinks to calm our skittish nerves.  I’ve never been to a show like this, I hadn’t realised it would be so intimate, that we’d be so close to the stage while the dancers walked between us to get up on the dias to perform.  I’m an open minded hetero girl, but my husband and I are here for my titillation as much as his. I’ve revelled in the waitresses, wearing basques, bustiers, stockings and suspenders, who crouched down at our table to take food orders and bent coquettishly over to serve our drinks.

I’m dressed in a pretty dove grey beaded dress, while under it I’m wearing my favourite balconette bra and buttock hugging french knickers.  We travelled up to London earlier today and have already indulged in ‘afternoon delight’ at our hotel! I get extra frisky in an anonymous, tasteful hotel room so we’ve had shower sex and my husband’s used love eggs and a silicone dildo on me as I sprawled at his mercy on the rumpled sheets of the king sized bed.

The dancer’s undulations are serpentine and fluid, owing much to belly dancing techniques in in her erotically charged routine,  The myriad tiny coins jingle on her outfit and the many hoops with which she is pierced quiver as she moves her limbs looking boneless, like fronds of seaweed rippling underwater.  Her torso and arms are bright like a peacock, a decorated canopy of pictures and symbols while her make-up and attitude give her a fierce persona that both repels and fascinates me.

Other girls who had danced for us this evening had been fleshy, their soft curves voluptuous and appealing, and when they shimmied, their buttocks and breasts quivered with aftershocks of movement.  We’d been teased with their stripping routines:Shall I show you?  Perhaps not yet? Can you glimpse it from behind me? It’s all yours!  Feast your eyes on that! We had all applauded (and squeezed our thighs together) to their final reveals of tasselled or sequinned pasties on gently swaying breasts, and curvy derrieres.

Our tattooed dancer’s routine is different, she moves like a reptile, something not quite human in her fluidity.  She seems to dance for her own pleasure while doing tricks with knives and swords where we fear she might hurt herself.  She’s like a caged beast prowling the stage, posturing and flexing, her body gym hard and uber slender. She scowls at the audience, no coquettish attempt to make us love her like the two previous girls, no her aim is to be remembered and a little feared.  Surely in the wild, brightly coloured insects and reptiles are the most poisonous, giving a warning to their predators.

Her last, longest, sword swallowed (well, held in her throat and then removed for the audience to admire) she darts off the stage to loud applause and the compare is up again, warning those of us sitting at the front that: we’re all pregnant now, so sexy was that last dancer!

Now’s the time for the audience to let loose.  A playlist of disco music begins so drinkers move to the bar while many of the diners get up on the tiny stage to dance.  Never before have these people shaken their booty with such abandon, or shimmied up against their friends or lovers with so much pent-up desire.  Everyone who has watched the show feels less inhibited, all imagine they have something to prove with their dancing. The majority of us are rampant and horny.

My husband and I get up to leave:  the slick in my knickers wants him to rub and fuck me in our hotel room, bending me over to take me from behind, and the tingling ache in his cock is happy to oblige.  Afterwards we will flop into our comfortable turned-down bed and hopefully we’ll have time for another memorable fuck tomorrow, before a delicious breakfast.


Posy Churchgate has been writing erotica since 2016, and often shares it on her own blog Posychurchgate@blogspot.com.  Posy wants to expand to different genres and styles of erotic writing and reviewing and plans to become a contributor to various other sites.  

Happily married and heterosexual, Posy embraces experimentation within her relationship, including something she has experienced in every scenario she creates.  “I’ve discovered that my libido is much like a muscle, use it or lose it!” Posy jokes, “so I’m ensuring I give my libido a regular work out to keep a spring in my step!”
You can follow Posy on Twitter @PosyChurchgate or contact her directly posy.churchgate@gmail.com

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

come back to me when your ready.

It must be one of the most heart-breaking things I have ever had to do, sit back, and watch someone I love, tear themselves to pieces, their heart breaking and their hole world crashing around them. I could run in and try to save them or fight away their demons for them. But that is not what they need or what they want.
I want to say it will be ok, it gets better, and it hurts less, with time. But who am I to know or think I have any idea what it feels like to them. True I know what pain feels like. I have had the emotional pain that was so sharp it took my breath away, that took over my life, aching so bad, and never going away. But telling some one to trust you when they just don’t trust anything, is not what they need. They need to learn to trust again in their own time and at their own pace.
I want to hold them and love them as hard as I can. But that would make them feel suffocated and restricted. They need space and time to heal themselves, to relearn how to be them and find what they need to be. So, I love them as fiercely as I can, from a far. Waiting for them to come to me when they are good and ready.
I remind myself of how I was when me heart was broken in tiny pieces and I thought I would never get my happy or self-back. I need to scream, cry and rage. I needed space, time, and compassion. I needed people to just carry on loving me for me. No judging, not telling me what to do or feel. I did not need someone to pick me up off the floor, but all the piece back in the right place and hold me together. I had to do that myself, I need to do that, and I need some to hold my hand, and to catch me when I fell again. I needed to fight my own demons, with someone stood by my side, encouraging me. it had to come from me.
So, I sit and watch, sitting on my hands. Loving, watching, and waiting for them to need me. but letting them come to me when they need me and asking for what help they need, when they need it.

 

For my Darling Emit, who without his courage and inspiration , I would be lost.

 

Hugs,

Pixie.

Ps –  give you Take me Home, By Jess Glynne.

family update, From the heart, Poly life, Question time., socail

Lean on me.

Lean on me.

This is a little bit of a gushy post, I’m just warning you. For anyone who follows my blog or me on twitter, you will know that I’m not well. My depression and anxiety have got really bad, and I have had to ask to go get more strutched help. I’m going to do day treatment for a few weeks. 3 days a week, 5 hours a day, cos I can’t go on feeling like this. I need help, big time. Yes I am strong and I will get through this , but I need help. Lucky I have a wonderful family and amazing friend on twitter who have been a godsend.

But I have been thinking a lot of late about who are real friends and who I trust . Sure I have friends enough, but I sometimes they are not always able to cope when my health, whether physical or mental is bad. I mean, like now, when having a mental health crisis, I would not want to be round me at times, so I don’t see why others should suffer the shit I put them through. I mean it has take everything for me to learn to trust maîtser and the girls fully. I feel so unworthy of their love and care at times. But they let me love them and care for them, so I let them do the same for me.

I then got to thinking about a really special friend that I have. Who, unlike most of my friends, started out as my friend, away from my family, who knew me when I was my ex. Who stood by me with through the shit I went through and did not flench when he found out I had told him lies, when I was sick and tried to end my life. Well ok he got really pissed off at me and nearly walked away, but he , unlike a lot of ‘friends’ took the time to find out what happened, to actually talk to me. He is my Sir Beasty, my darling man , Aedan O’Healy .

He from are first meeting was someone I just clicked with. Both with Irish roots, Miss spent youths and a love of swearing and food. (Although he hates marmite, but I forgive him that). It was very odd that from the start I trusted him, felt at ease around him and could be myself. He made it clear that he liked me for me, plain and simply. He was not after things or wanting , he was just a friend. When things got really bad with my ex , he was the one I tried to open up to. He was the person I admitted I had issues with my mum. I swear I could of told him I was a marshmallow covered in cheese, and he would of gone “cool, and?” I did not need to pretended I was happy or ‘normal’ .

When I tried to take my life, I remember speaking to him a few hours before hand , and trying so hard to tell him I What I had planned to do. But I was so far down the road of self loathing and hating myself, well I just couldn’t , I tried. I really did, but …. Ok not going there. But a few weeks of not speaking to anyone and being hidden away in hospital, trying to piece my life back together , thinking nobody from my old life would give me a second chance or even try talking to me . Well he messaged me , I think through Facebook, at like 4 am. It was not a pleasant conversation to have , but he made answer his questions, to talk and confided in him. It took so much to do that, but he made me, kind of admitting what I did and facing someone head on was a massive help. And him being truly amazing he , again did not flinch. After I got it all out , he said that he would forgive me, but I had to be upfront, open and truthful about everything from that point on. When I said I didn’t think I could and that it was to hard. I got a curt reply of “life is fucking hard p, you can’t give up on it” . So from that point on I decided to meet life head on and not flinch from what ever shit came my way. And although I had days I was a total bitch, a hot mess and set backs, he stood by my side, not trying to save me or put me back together how I was. But he encouraged me to just be me and fuck what anyone else thought.

He’s been their every step of the way in my recovery. From listening to whine about how shit my life was, to me fulling apart over being me, to losing it over not being able to do what I used to do. He was the person who, when I got together with maîtser, told me it was ok to love and want to spend your life with someone. He was the one I said that I was in love with maîtser first too. He did tease the hell out of me as well and kept call maîtser my boyfriend. (You big Irish knob).

One of the things I love about him is his empathy and his ability to know when something is wrong, even when I don’t . His also shown me it is ok to be sensitive and not to be ashamed of having emotions . If I’m upset he will let me cry, if I’m angry he lets me rage and if I need to full apart he will hug me a little tighter, till I can heal myself back together. He is one of the few people who can talk me down of high cliffs , when I don’t know how I got there or how to get down. He is one of three men I fully trust in this world.

But by far the best and most wonderful thing he has given or taught me is how to take my thoughts and emotions, and turn them to words. He taught me to write , take pride in my stories , and to keep at it. He has never once gone, p this is shit. He finds positive sin everything I write and do as a writer. He was the one I went to and said I wanted to write and blog about sex. Unlike maîtser, who said yes but let’s think about it. He said ‘ I think it’s fucking awesome idea, and what’s more I’m going to help you.” Not to say he has always positive stuff to say, but he is always straight with me , sometimes a little blunt. It was him saving about my spelling, grammar and punctuation, that led me to having a English teacher, something that I love so much. He pushes me to make time to sit down and concentrate on the words, saying to try and not use greats, happy, or said to often in piece I write. He is also the voice in my head say “turn the fucking spell check on” . He stepped up when I was freaking out about writing stuff and acted as my editor, an arxengmnt that works well

The oddest thing about are friendship though is , even though he knew I was D/s , he never went ‘oh so am I” or “oh I have a kinky side. But are friendship is and has from the start, had a bit of a D/s side. I have called him ‘Sir’ for, like 4 weeks in to being friends, it just seem odd and uncountable to call him Aedan. He could also tell me to settle down , shush or behave, and I just did and still do. When I got with Maîtser , with in 3 weeks he was given permission to tell me to be good and behave. He is affectionately know as my tech and writing Dom!

And to go with this all , he is one of the sweetest, charming , epic friends a girl could have. He always has my back, pushes me and makes me want to be the best me I can be. He will let me full apart, but won’t take any shit from me. I can grump at him, but he lets me know I no uncertain terms , when I’m out of line.

But, above all he has given me back the faith in myself, makes me feel proud of myself and looks out for me. He lets my lean on him , when I need to, and will lean on me when he needs it. So, Sir Beasty, I love you, whole bunches, you big Irish knob!

Hugs,

Pixie, aka Doris.

Ps – I give you Lean on me , the Bill Withers.

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

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!

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!

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

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