The Training of Pixie Pt. 09

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I was happy to grant Pixie’s request to be “excused from games” – in fact, after the night I had enjoyed with her and Dame Suzie, I would have granted any request. It had been intense; it had been wonderful; and it had been an epiphany.

Before that night I had, I now realised, had very simple ideas about dominance and submission: I was a dominant, women like Pixie were submissives. But now I realised that was the way a young woman with no experience of the world had construed a much more complex situation. There was no denying that Pixie was submissive. She had, after all, allowed me to regress her to babyhood; and yet. Yet? That was what nagged me, what was the caveat. I had tried to ask Dame Suzie over our breakfast what the “but” meant in her formulation that Pixie was a submissive “but … “. She said that was for me to work out, adding, kissing me, that was why Pixie had been allocated to me. Her other piece of advice before she went was that I should watch out for Abby, who was, she said, fuming about what Pixie had done the previous day.

It seemed that I was not the only one with simplistic ideas about dominance and submission. I caught Abby at the pre-sessional coffee. She was “off” merter escort with me. Nothing deterred, I went on the offensive:

“Hey, there’s no call for that. Pixie is my submissive, not my slave.”

Abby looked at me witheringly:

“When you grow up Penny, you’ll realise that the difference is in words only. Our task as a domme is to mould the little bitches to our will. If you had done that with that little cow then she would not have dared behave as she did. She needs teaching a lesson Penny. If you can’t do it, I shall.”

That was telling me. I watched her, stifling my natural desire to tell her to go fuck herself and confining myself to saying we’d have to agree to disagree.

“There’s nothing to fucking well agree on. I have been a domme for getting on twenty years. I know what these women need. If you don’t take the opportunity I did, when I was at your age, and learn how to deal with them, then more fool you.”

I turned on my heel and left her to rant at my retreating back. There was no doubt that she was sore, I laughed to myself.

The first session was on the dynamics of the class-room and how to educate the whole nişantaşı escort person rather than the intellect alone. It was a fascinating talk, and the exercises suggested for the late morning session looked interesting. Miss Rose then said that we needed to get our charges ready for the cross-country run that afternoon – a healthy body in a healthy mind, and all that. That was when Pixie made her request. She already, bless her, had a letter written out for me to sign. I did so, handing it to Miss Rose and explaining that it had my consent.

As the coffee-break was ending, Abby stormed up to me.

“What the fucking fuck are you playing at? That little bitch of yours needs the fucking exercise. She’s swinging the lead – she did at school and she is now. She doesn’t like the communal showers because everyone can she she’s the titless wonder. Why the fuck are you colluding in her bone idleness?”

I really was getting sick and tired of Abby, but I was not doing to sink to her level.

“Were you actually listening to the talk just now, or were you too busy feeling up Kay?”

“What the fuck …!”

“We were told that education ortaköy escort is about the whole person, and that we should attempt to go with, rather than against the grain. You may think that P.E.” (I deliberately used the most simplistic and derogatory term for her discipline I could think of) “is the be all and end all, but if a student finds that it is not for her, then we should explore why rather than forcing her into it, especially, if like Pixie, they have complex reasons.”

Others looked round as her temper exploded.

“Fuck you! All this mindfulness crap – a good bloody work-out will sort that bitch out. Giving in to her, and others like her, just plays their game. They need to be tougher – tough love works you idiot!”

Conscious of the others watching, I groped for an answer, but a voice piped up over my left shoulder.

“Miss Penny, it’s time for the next session.”

Pixie had saved me from losing my temper back. For the second time I turned on my heel and left a red-faced Abby ranting at my back.

“She gets like that, Miss,” Pixie explained, “best to ignore her. Where there’s no sense there’s no feeling.”

“You know she is out to get you?” I asked.

“Which is why I am off games”, she replied.

“Why, what is it?” I asked.

“Let’s say a little latex bird told me it would be a wise move”, she smiled mysteriously. Yet again, Pixie span her air of mystery. Somehow she had managed to get Kay to confide in her, though when and how were part of the mystery.

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