Magic Smoke


I’m not exactly sure how or why it happened, but Spitfire’s computer had the magic smoke issue.

You know what the magic smoke it – it’s what computers run on.  If the magic smoke escapes, the computers stop running.

Either that, or the hamsters in the power supply have all died.

As soon as her computer went down, I started to scramble to get her shifts covered.  OG was easy – that was me.  I was taking the next day off from OG, so two covered shifts in a week was a good excuse to have a day off on the third shift.  I used to do three OG shifts in a week.  One is what I am supposed to do now, two if a dj needs a cover, but not three.  Not anymore.

Besides, it was going to be the Whip’s 7 year anniversary.  More on that in a bit.

Spitfire’s OG shift was covered.  Looking at the hours I was about to do, I grimaced.  Someone needed to cover two of the shifts I had in order for me to do all the shift coverage that was needed – F.R.E.D. and CFNM.

I think I was cuddling with her like this at the time when I was trying to figure things out.  I could be wrong.  She and I were talking about things and more.

Later that night, I went and spent some time with mum and the others and we went for a flight.

Isn’t that a gorgeous image? I edited one of the two (the one high above I think) and it’s my new profile pic on SL.

I did her OG shift. It wasn’t that tippy, but it wasn’t linden poor either. I’ve had worse shifts. At least this time, Bryan and I didn’t get at it over what tag I was wearing. That as on Wednesday. If I am broadcasting on the Whip, I am supposed to wear the Whip’s tag, not the sim’s DJ tag. Bryan was out of sorts. Cooper was fine with it. Cooper wins, cause he’s the owner. I could have used my headset instead, but that would have ruined the “formal” look I was trying to achieve for the theme. Meh. Whip tag precedent set.

The headset isn’t quite a good idea. It doesn’t really tag me as a Whip broadcaster, but it can show that it is the Whip I am broadcasting on.

Precedent set. Now, both Spitfire and I can do cover shifts on the Whip at OG with our Whip tags.

I spent most of the rest of my Friday like this:

Or like this:

That little purple and greyish thing is the closest thing on SL to a treecat and I love the adorable avatar it is. Spitfire left herself logged in through Lumiya and I took advantage of all the cuddles I could.

That’s the three of us, thick as thieves. I don’t think Spitfire has seen any of these images, because she’s on lumiya on her phone for SL access, and on her tablet, she’s on discord, and I haven’t dropped all of them on her head there. Thick as thieves, we three can be. The three of us? That’s like 6 hours of DJ AWESOMENESS between us. More really, cause I can do up to 4 hours straight, and so can Coyote, and I’m sure Spitfire would rise to the challenge. I took that photo maybe less than an hour before Coyote’s set was supposed to happen. I maybe have those images. Maybe.

Coyote’s set happened – she took over F.R.E.D. for me, and ROCKED the galleria. She’s been invited back, but with her schooling and all, I don’t think she’ll be back soon. Maybe, for a change of pace or if I need a cover for F.R.E.D. Or maybe she’ll end up with her own set – if she rejoins the sl group and maybe joins the website. I thought I had pictures of her djing. 😦

Saturday… I woke up feeling like I needed more sleep, even though I got about 7-8 hrs.  Belly’s been bad all day.  I think it was the pizza we had the night before – too much grease for my poor belly.

Anyway… I pluged in my set up, double checked my settings, made sure everything was working, and waited for when the trance-before-dance was over, and then fired everything up.

I told Spitfire to put her headphones on.

The beam she gave me when she realized that I was able to do the exact same thing she does when she DJs at the galleria gave her such HUGE #dompride that I think she had a grin from ear to ear. The bins make music “heavy” to me, and Spitfire was able to hear the difference.

Except…

on my end…

My middle and youngest decided to commit acts of kiddie warfare on each other over the last two slices of pizza in the house.

For most of the set, I was having rubber band effect between the relaxing calm of the binuarals Spitfire created and gave to me to use during specific sets, and having to try to shriek over the heads of a teen and pre-teen about how it’s just pizza, let your sibling eat it or I’m going to throw it out!

Hello, headache.

Spitfire went to bed a happy dominant, all #dompride.  Here I am, sending her to bed with cuddlies.

Me? I went for food, and got ready for the Purple Man Group set the Whip was doing.

That’s when someone who wanted me to dj a special event showed up in my inbox.  That’s also about when Bryan started to pester me for ideas for CFNM tomorrow. I told him that Coyote was dealing with CFNM, while I dealt with the person who wanted me to dj the special event. I worked on that while having fun at the Whip’s party.

That’s Spitfire’s hologram for the Whip event. The one below is mine. Isn’t it awesome? Except my face looks like pouty resting bitch face. Ugh. Oh well.

Party time! Four of us from the PMG group were danging on my chim at the Whip party. Coyote, Dj Darion, his girl Marie, and I were having way too much fun.  Coyote has the pink hair, I’m the smaller one in back.  Am I really that small?

Woops. Darion crashed.  Oopsies.

Songs downloaded. Supper done. I get dragged into a live chat On. The. Radio. and make a complete arse of myself. Ooops. Oh well. At last I didn’t swear.

Then PMG happened.

Aren’t these drums AWESOME? Oh yesss… Love it! Lurve it! Penalt got some footage. So did Irish and a couple of others. They’re somewhere.

PMG done, and I went back to the Galleria and took a good hard look at my inbox in SL. There, in one of the staff chats, was a newly created manager bitching about how the DJs shouldn’t be managers. It was bad, and both Coyote and I got the brunt of it. Spitfire too, because she shouldn’t have access to staff chat blah blah blah. Excuse me, but if you’re staff, you should have access. If you’re doing work for the place and a griefer attacks, you need to be able to get help fast. You need the staff chat. Oh no… non-managerials shouldn’t have access, especially the two djs who were also managers.

Blood pressure went UP.

Of course, nothing was decided. Not really. firkdingblast.

So, I spent most of the rest of the evening either cuddling a gynoid-in-training, or going to one of the places I have staff rights at, and seeing what was up.

I was fine at the staff place, until two of the staff decided to tear into the sissy that walked into the door. I tried to advocate for the sissy in the “it’s okay for her to be here if she’s naked with her peen out, or dressed and ladylike with her peen in,” but the other staff weren’t having it.

I also got bitched at for ejecting someone who broke a rule. You got the tag to the place, you better know the rules!

I’m dialed up.

I need downtime.

I need to be able to put my head on my owner’s feet and stop having to think. I need to be able to let go of the frustation and more I had at things attacking my sense of calm.

I need to be able to be little again…

And that’s not going to happy for a long while, even with my new Songbird Serenade stuffy, and all the tiny stuffies I’ve been picking up.

At best guess, Spitfire only needs a new graphics card to get new magic smoke for her machine, and should be online by Friday. I don’t think that’s gonna happen. I think she’s going to have to buy a new computer – and that’s gonna be spendy.

Worse, it can take a week or more to get the new computer to her.

“Lean on us,” mum told me. I can’t. All I want to do is cry, cause there’s nothing I can do to help Spitfire.

I was and am still dialed up as a domme, she touched me when she shouldn’t have, and I snarled at her.

I hope she forgives me for it.

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