Pixie, Part I

 

When I excused myself from an early dinner at the table, I tried to hide this excitement bubbling up within me.

I told my parents I was going to go pack my suitcase for tomorrow – tomorrow being when I leave my countryside home and head back to my shitty city apartment and city job.

This was half the truth. I was actually going to pack my suitcase but what I was mainly excusing myself for was this: I was going to walk down beyond my parent’s dam, slip out of my clothes and touch myself in the presence of beautiful mother nature.

Siting here under the dazzling orange sky of the afternoon and listening to the sounds of the critters around me, I recalled how tense tucking my chair back under the table was. In that moment, just thinking about what I was going off to do, I could feel my nipples grow. I can still feel that stab of anxiety as I feared my nipples would show through the sheer fabric of my floral dress. Yet as I laid on the ground, the grass beneath me scratching up my back, the lush forest around me took that stab of anxiety away.

I became aware of my surroundings – how my feet were pressed up against the rough bark of tree, how the dirt felt under my legs. When I prop them up, I can feel the cool breeze of the afternoon. It hits me then, like jumping into a cold pool. The breeze sends goosebumps up my body. They form over my thighs and legs.

I became aware of the angle my head was laying at – twisted, as I was propped up on my right shoulder to look at the creek flowing quietly. For some reason, the dull ache in my head in that moment excited me in that moment. The gentle pain seemed to spiral down to my cunt and tickle my clit.

I have been coming to this clearing away from prying eyes since as long as I can remember. My earliest memory is of being fourteen and coming here to undress and masturbate after a storm had finally passed after three days of ravaging our land. I remember lying on the ground on my stomach and coating my nipples in a thick patch of mud. The sensation of the mud hardening over my nipple and the wet grass beneath my body led me to slide my finger between my lips and relieve myself. That memory stuck with me a lot throughout my life. It often was the inspiration to touch myself during a thunderstorm or in the shower.

It was beautiful.

“I saw you once, you know?”

The voice was low and female. It made me jump.

I sat up on the spot – my vision was blurry. Did I doze off?

“I didn’t mean to startle you” came the voice. “I just wanted to tell you before you left…”

I recognise the voice now. My younger sister. half sister. So nicknamed ‘Pixie’ for her appearance – little button nose, small blue piercing eyes and pointed ears.

My instant reaction was to roll over, grab my crumpled dress and use it to cover my breasts and cunt.

Shock tore through my body. She used to watch me?

Pixie smiled.

Pixie was seventeen and almost a twin to my mother – short blonde hair hid her ears while a fringe was working on covering her eyes. She looked at me with inquisitive eyes and in that moment, I felt bad for her. Did she feel like she didn’t belong, being the love child of my mother and out of touch with our father?

“Please don’t hide” She said with a smile. “You’re an angel.”

“You watched me? What the fuck, pixie?” The words came tumbling out of my mouth.

She frowned at that. “It was only the once. One time after that storm. You took off in such a hurry that night and I wanted to know you what you were up to”

I felt myself growing red. My cheeks were burning.

“Go home, Pixie. Now.” I said through clenched teeth.

Instead, she knelt beside me. Her sheer plain white dress loosely fell forward as she did so, giving me an eyeful of her bare breasts. I looked away as she did so, again muttering for her to leave.

When I turned my head back to look at her, her hand was moving across to where I was clutching my crumpled dress.

To be concluded…

The thrill of the Golden Shower

choking

It seems my Dom side is ever present and ever nasty even in the morning. The Golden Shower is something that only particularly appeals to me at certain times. I’ve got to be in the mood for it.

This is because, I think, I’m a gentle Dom. I want to nurture my submissive and care for her and unless she’s totally into it, I’m not convinced. This is where the gentleness sometimes conflicts with my aggressive Dom side – where I am too nice to be savage. I’m concerned too much about the wellbeing.

But not this morning.

This morning I am busting to urinate. A little bit of an Overshare but here’s what I want to confess: I want to grab my submissive, push her to her knees and unleash my stream all over her

Why? I could not tell you why my mind goes there. Tomorrow I could wake up with the same bladder and be gentle.

Today I want to claim ownership. Today I want to cover her in me, whilst feeling that sweet relief. She could feel helpless, unable to avoid me as the stream stings her tits. Maybe she might turn her nose up at it during the act — and then something in her changes — she starts to relish the warmth, she starts to feel like she is being baptised. Liberated. Truly reborn as my submissive, the act bringing us closer together. She might begin to moan and take the opportunity to let the flow hit her skin.

This turned into a fantasy. My bad. The point is: I feel a primal need to claim her, put her in her place. Remind her of her vows to me. In the most animalistic way.

Perhaps you walked in thinking this isn’t your thing. What I hope is maybe you walked out of this thinking: gosh, this sounds fucking sexy. I like to discuss the darkness in me and if I change someone’s mind — good.

Now excuse me, I need to pee.