Little Lonely And Lost Kittlen

Originally posted in September on another site that doesn’t keep dates of when things were posted. Playing catch up.

This is in response to Spitfire’s blog post from my “yesterday.”

I have been interested in hypnosis/trancing/placebo effects for years.  In my late teens and 20’s, I experimented with it and played with it.  I even used what I now know was a trance from the time I was a young teenager on to get me to sleep at night, and didn’t realize it.  I was on prescription pain meds and on a dose so high to be functional that it damaged my liver in my 30’s, that I realized that either I could take the meds and die in 5 years, or do something else.  It’s been 8 years since I decided to go cold turkey with my pain meds.  (hint: naproxen is baaaaaad juju)  I haven’t told Spitfire everything I’ve done with hypnosis, and that doesn’t matter. I have some experience trancing others.  I’m real rusty though, and won’t do anything private for a long while.  I’m thoroughly fascinated with the mind/body connection and alternative healing practices and placebos that are known to work when western medicine fails, especially for people with long term illnesses and fluidic disabilities.  I also have some training in counselling, but only as a teen counselor when I was a teen.  My credentials and training are long expired.

When I met Spitfire, I could feel she was broken.  She was scared to talk to anyone.  Scared to participate.  Scared of scorn.  Scared of being discovered to be a “gender imposter.”  I was already with Ezee, and he got me through a self-harm phase that I never want to get that bad, ever again.  I thought he loved me.  Now, I realize even if he did love me, he was using me more as a fetish dispenser than a submissive.  He loved his new shinies too, and that affected Coyote and all the other new shinies he got, but kept on coming back to me.  Why? probably because I gave in and gave him his fetish.  Don’t hate on him.  He’s human like everyone else.

At the worst of it, I was doing at least 14 shifts (28 hrs a week) for both him and I, because Ezee wouldn’t show up to DJ.  That’s 3 at Old Guard. 3 at CFNM, and other shifts at other sims.  Sometimes the lindens would roll in, but I was burning myself out.  Spitfire, was there, watching this happen and I don’t remember if I asked or she offered. Spitfire, by taking one shift at the Old Guard, saved my bacon.  The work Unity did with her had changed her completely.  She was blossoming and becoming confident, meanwhile, I was falling apart, trying to keep everything together.  The things Ezee wanted me to do was an unfair and undue burden on me.  He was supposed to be carrying half the burden, if not more, and there I was, with the full load on my shoulders.

At the end of December, I begged Ezee for a text a day so I’d know he was alive.  He promised he would.  That lasted a month, maybe.  Not really.

In January, I fell.  Hurt myself bad.  I went immediately to my happy place, and stayed there for the better part of three weeks to not have to take massive amount of pain pills they scripted me.  I don’t think anyone knew or realized exactly how much pain I was in or where I was in my mind. I tried to stay there, in my happy place, but the pain was too much and left me gasping for breath.  I was living in my easy chair cause I couldn’t sleep in my bed.  I went from 6 shifts djing a week to 0 and I needed that vacation.  Even with all the happy placing I was doing, I had to take pain killers, and it wasn’t good.  And Ezee was nowhere to be found.


April… He poofed.  For most of May as well. He would come back for a bit, then go again.  I was self-harming again, but not physically.  I’d spend lindens without regard for what real life needed money for.  Spitfire has put a restriction in now to try to pull back on that without strangling my creative need or need to shop.  Anyway, in June, I was supposed to do a set, and got given the day off by Bryan, so I didn’t have to do the Old Guard, and Ezee showed up to do my shift.  He thought it was at some other sim, and logged off when he realized where it was.  We got into an argument… Supposedly, he went to the hospital with some sort of “brain infection,” but never told me what it was.  I was frantic. No word from him. I sent him there. It was all my fault. Oh… the spinning wheel.

Spitfire was there through all this.  So was Bryan.  And Coyote.

He showed back up on June 13th, two days before my real life birthday.  Then the net “went for him.”  And he was quiet again. A blip here and there. Twittering others, instagramming others, and nothing for me. That was the internet equivalent of face slapping.

And at day 38, Pen had enough.  I begged for a second chance for Ezee and he blew it.

Meanwhile, the self-harm desire had come back. I couldn’t trance to stay out of pain if I was worried and fretting for my dominant, begging him to come back to me.

He blew it.

And Spitfire was there.  As my shoulder. As my calmer.

During a day when I wanted to end my pain – physical. mental, and emotional – I reached out as far as I could for a thread to hold onto to keep breathing.  It was the third or fourth time I’d ever been to YMO and I had visited the other sim.  I walked in, was greeted by Eleanore, and told her “I need to be where friends of friends are.”  I found a seat on a pillow pile and listened to the music…

…and was able to trance for my first time in what felt like forever.  My pains started to go lessen.  Muscles relaxed, and my heart rate slowed.  It hasn’t been under 85 bpm while “resting” in years!

When Unity hugged me the first time, I was in shock.  Unity? Hugging me?  I was practically a stranger!  Then she let me have radio rights and I could rez a couple of pillows – so my favorite pillow is out now, and a pillow for the ponies that come to the sim.  She’s said that maybe my objectification pedestal can come out to when the rebuild happens.

Then I went to Spitfire’s DJ set for the truly first time at YMO.  And we started talking.  I don’t know who decided I should be a dollie, but I asked her, what do I do with a heart so broken, it’s sand?  Her reply?  Not to worry about the heart, it was in her shop, being repaired.

I think that was the moment she first claimed me as hers.

It had not percolated through her psyche yet, but it was working its way through mine with a vengeance.  It was about a month before I gave her collar access, and at least another week or two before either of us announced it.  We had steps to take – did Unity and others who needed to know accept it?  They did.  The doll seams were the first thing that solidified I was through with Ezee, and I chose to wear them or not wear them.  Changing my tattoos was the most recent – those are the marks that show I’m Spitfire’s.  My stars now have her rainbow.  I tried other things, and did not like them, and Spitfire accepted my choice about them.

I feel lighter in my step.  I’ve started drawing again.  I’m taking an online drawing and writing course – that she didn’t even know that I decided to do.  There’s other small changes.  I’ve poured my heart and soul out to Spitfire, but I know I haven’t told her everything.  She’s accepted it all.  There’s other things I want to do, but I’m terrified of doing, and she’s holding my hand through it, so are other members of YMO.

We’re still negotiating.  Unity has priority with Spitfire ahead of me as is her right.  I also have to manage my subs too – Coyote, Rayne, and Coy (when he comes back – yes, another pony!).  I also need to keep an eye on my husband, Penalt, and exercise my domme skills and needs.  I go to discussion groups to keep up on bdsm topics to keep me on my toes and up to date with things that benefit both subs and doms.

Ezee did a blip on the radar about three weeks ago, and that nearly sent me to the ER.  By then, I had enough resources in YMO that I had help getting through his idiocy.  Spitfire held me for hours, trying to get me to calm down.  With Coyote and Spitfire’s blessing, we sent him a pair of my used (but clean!) thong underwear, with a ton of glitter, so that he now has “big girl panties” to wear. Ezee has his own path to take.  Maybe it will lead him back to me, maybe not.  His gran is a fireball, and I will keep on writing her cause she’s awesome.  No matter what, I wish him godspeed on his journey.  I have my own path to walk, and it’s at Spitfire’s side for the foreseeable future.

Spitfire knows how to handle transformations. I have other skills in managing subs.  Spitfire has been encouraging me to go out and be domme, and I appreciate her for it.  Saying to me “keep going” when I was writing as she was reading was the moment her link to me solidified.  Spitfire’s “sisters” are my “aunties” now, and even Unity has a special name.

I love you, Spitfire, for being you.  For loving me back even when I couldn’t say the words. For being there when I thought no one was.  For taking leaps of faith for me.  For the mask you sent me to help me through the forest fire smoke we’re dealing with here.  Tu es ma joie de vivre et mon arc-en-ciel.  I hope to make you proud of your dollie.

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