Soaking 2

I barely touched some of the stuff going on while Spitfire was unable to be Spitfire.  It’s my turn to soak a shoulder or two.

See, all of a sudden, I got slammed with a bunch of real life stuff, but nothing like what she was going through.

One of my teeth lost a shard.  It was a root canal, so since I wasn’t in pain, my dental wasn’t going to cover it.  I still managed to get the tooth fixed – without anesthetic!  Me, miss “I hate dentists” had a root canal’s filling redone without anything to numb the pain of the tooth vibrating and more.

I must be a masochist.

At the same time, I had to cover Spitfire’s sets. I managed to cover three out of four, but not the fourth one because it was taking place when I had to see the dentist. It was a whip shift too.

That’s what AutoDJ is for.

More real life stuff got piled on, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

In the middle of all of this, suddenly, from out of nowhere, mum sends a notice to the main group in Second Life that she’s going on vacation, starting immediately.

I panic.  That notice flared onto my screen just as I was about to check in with her.  I needed her advice and comfort on how to handle Spitfire and help her through what she’s going through.  Yes, I’ve gone through similar, but not the minute by minute that she is, nor was it a parent of mine, but that feeling of not being able to breathe because someone you love is terminal and suffering and there’s nothing you can do…

That I’ve been through.

Mum’s vacation, publically, was taking off to the high road.  Of course, those in the know knew exactly where she poofed to.  She went onto a chosen alt and has been hiding there, where most of those who want her can’t reach her.

I can reach her.

We’ve had a few interesting conversations in the last almost two weeks.

As her alt, she’s very submissive, but mum keeps on trying to poke out.  I’ve had to wag my finger at her a few times, telling her that whatever it is I want to tell her can wait until after she’s back as mum again.  I’ve checked in daily with her, so she knows I’m online and my arms are available to hold her if she’s wanting someone to help her find her feet.

Oh yes, mum is funny while tranced.  She types “echoes” of the letters she wants and I have to sound out in my head what she wants to say to me.

The problem was, I needed her.  I needed her knee to recharge.  I needed her advice so I could help Spitfire.  I needed her advice for my own reasons.  Nope, can’t tell mum what’s going on, cause she needs this vacation desperately.

So I reach out to others to help.

Kitti does her best.  So does a couple of the other dommes, but none of them are either Spitfire or mum.  Spa tries.  In fact, it’s to Spa that I let down my guard and tell her how stressed I am feeling, how burnt out I’m feeling.  I drop my shields and let her in.

Spa helds me, cuddled me, and allowed me be sexual and frisky with her as I need to be, in order to let some of my energy out.  She allowed me to be sexual, which is something Spitfire hasn’t let me be in a few weeks.  Spitfire has not been in the mood, and I can’t really blame her.

I still could have used mum’s advice.  I’m not coping well.  Being Spitfire’s main venting person has been draining.  But if it’s draining on me, what’s going on with Spitfire, her sister and her mother?

I really needed to talk to mum as mum, not as her alt.

Maybe, when she comes back as mum….

“I feel neglected,” I tell Spitfire, trying to get my needs across.  “Not neglected like what he did, but neglected and burning out.”

I make reference to my previous dom, where he expected me to keep everything running smoothly, and yet he wouldn’t be there for days or weeks, and would only show up because he needed to jack off.

“What do you need, mine?”

“I feel stupid for asking you this… I need you,” I start, trying to explain.  “I need you back.  You’ve let me be little when I needed to be little, but this is different.  It’s taken so much out of me to try to support you, that I can’t do it for much longer. I’m going to break.  I need time at your knee. I need to be able to let go.  To be your girl again.”

“I’m not in a dominant mindset, mine.  I can’t do the things you want me to do.”

“Yes, you can,” I tell her.  “I can sit at your knee or at your feet.  I can let my mind rest and maybe recharge.”

There’s a pause…

“You’re right, mine.  I can not neglect your needs,” I exhale as she continues, “I can do this for you.  When I wake up tonight, you’ll be at my knee.”

Then I do the math and facepalm.  She’ll get up when my shift is almost over for the Whip.  It’ll be midnight before we can even start it.  Better this than nothing.  I mentally shrug.

“It’s a plan.”

With a first step, I start to work with Spitfire, getting her back into her routine of things.  Getting her back into doing what she did before this new change in her father.  Maybe I can get her to dive into her work and heal some, or at least use her work as a way of distracting her from what is going on.

It’s worth a shot.

I never did get a full recharge.  I got enough to carry on, but not enough to fall to my knees for her.  It’ll have to do.

Spitfire’s beginning to talk about the future – and she’s kinda scaring me in a thrilling sort of way.  She has her passport, and permission to travel to Canada (stupid US security stuff forcing us to do the same…).  She’s thinking about coming to visit me, or to go to a convention locally.

I’m gonna sit here in shock.

Or knit.

Yah, I think I’ll knit.

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