“I have a task for you, and I plan on doing it too,” Spitfire speaks to me just before going to bed for her night. “I will be doing this too. Blog about the Old Guard.”
I baulk. She gives me the same assignment the next day. And the next. And the next.
“I am going to have to push you, mine,” she says to me. “You are not going to enjoy it. Once again, your task is to write about the Old Guard.”
She goes to bed. I return to real life and do mom things, and think.
I don’t even really know where to start.
I found the Old Guard randomly. I was looking for places to be while my “dom” was offline. House dom, more than anything else. An abusive collector of girls that like being abused. He touted himself as too gorean for goreans and enjoyed getting banned from sims. He took it as his pleasure in doing things that would get him banned. Permanently.
I walked in. I forget who was DJing at the time. I was accepted immediately. And I came back a couple of times when the house dom went nuts, and Old Guard was my sanctuary.
I met Bryan that first day.
Bryan was the long-suffering manager and host of the Old Guard. he wrangled the events, the sponsors, the DJs and the patrons. He mediated. He protected people who came there, no matter their gender or avatar. Bryan was the staple of the Old Guard, even more so than the owners, Cooper and Tajah, and their partner, Nitefury. Nitefury was rarely seen. Cooper would show up at random. Tajah even more so.
They had events during the day for their Euros and early afternoon/evening, three times a week for the North American crowd. Bryan arranged for everything one way or another. It was the first place I came to be after the house dom threw a temper tantrum.
House dom left me, and one other of his girls locked up, in nadu, unable to teleport or do anything, at the House of V. It’s been almost four years, and I still can’t go back there, that’s how much he scared me.
I ran wild that night. I found a friend I used to play with ages ago. He and I did horizontal stuff, and when house dom found out – cause he wasn’t the one I did the horizontal with – he flipped out and EJECTED me from his house, with malice. He threatened to chase me through SL and make it so I couldn’t enjoy myself anymore.
He found me once. He had his people harass me for days until everyone was banned from the sim. He never found me again. I hope he never does.
I started taking domlypanties with me to the Old Guard as something to do away from the vampire group we belonged to and I was having issues with. They refused to listen to me that this one guy was a problem and 6 months after they ejected me, they got rid of him because of the shit he had repeatedly pulled was finally pulled on someone high enough up, that it was a problem.
Anyway… that’s about when I met Spitfire, just after the vampires ejected me. We hit it off as friends right away. She was in the process of leaving her dom, and I was still very badly wounded from what the vampire clan pulled on me.
Two months later, domlypanties had gotten me to DJ on our private sim. The Old Guard had a crisis. Their DJ didn’t show. I had music set up, and a stream, and got the go-ahead to DJ by someone there. Was it Bryan? Cooper? Tajah? I don’t remember. I do remember that domlypanties loved it. He was so proud of me.
This is Spitfire, Coyote, and I, in front of the Old Guard about a year ago. We were doing a series of photos of the three of us together so that Tajah and Cooper could show three of their DJs. My plan was to get all 6 DJs and Bryan in a photoshoot together.
That never happened. I started out by splitting the shifts with domlypanties, then eventually, doing all 3 sets a week – Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, by myself. Eventually, Tajah and Cooper, and Bryan too, all fired his ass for him being so flaky.
Spitfire’s in her “amazon” body. Look at the size of those! Yikes! I’m pretty sure what I’m wearing came from the first Bound Box, and Coyote’s doing a Jessica Rabbit.
Probably the earliest photo I have of Spitfire and me together. This was taken in 2016 during a “fantasy creatures” event. I’m a Kirin dragon or luck dragon. I think she’s a satyr or faun.Roo, one of the other DJs was the White Bunny. I don’t know who is the black thing. Bryan, maybe?
Another Picture of us together from that day – She’s already been claimed by mum.
After Spitfire went to bed, this marvellous unicorn and his girl showed up.I started out as a dancer on that very pole behind me. I’m pretty sure this is a rave night.Here, I’m dressed as the essence of Fire. This is also Coyote’s baby shower. I was also “pregnant” with domlypanties’ pixel baby at the time too.
Time to be a Kajira.
Naughty Schoolgirl Days. I’m wearing my doll tattoo, so this is after Spitfire claimed me, I’m sure of it.
Coyote, Penalt and I as ponies.
Another “Gorean” day.
Objectification night. I am a statue. I loved this. That’s Tajah’s picture in the background.
Story of O night.
Another way I was set up during Objectification night.
My first Whip shift there. Or third. Or something.
Body Malfunction. Spitfire doesn’t have her spots yet, either.
Another naughty schoolgirl. Or was this magical girl day?
Magical Girl day! That’s the same outfit! It switches back and forth between schoolgirl and magical girl with the toggle of a gesture.
Steampunk or latex? I forget which.
Another view of that dress during my Whip broadcast.
Another pyjama party.
So, I had originally started working at the Old Guard by being a dancer. When I started to DJ there, I was supposed to be split shifting 3 shifts with domlypanties. Then he started to flake and I ended up doing all three shifts by myself for months on end. He got fired.
I ended up as fill in hostess for the other DJs when Bryan wasn’t around, and on call the rest of the time, if the tip jar rang. I started a discussion that died, but brought in about 1000L for the club – and that was an argument I had with Tajah. I wanted to do it for free cause I was such a novice. Domlypanties told me I had to take a percentage. I wanted 5 or less. I think it was at 15%, and Tajah wanted split 50/50.
I started to burn out, so Spitfire and Coyote each took a set. We were all paid 500L a set by June 2017 when Tajah disappeared. I had started out at 500L, Spitfire and Coyote had started at 200L and worked up to 500L. Suddenly both Tajah and Nitefire poofed on Cooper, and Bryan, not Cooper, had asked if we minded taking a pay cut.
See, for 500L, we were supposed to DJ even if it was an empty sim. I loved that because I could play what I want, check my playlists for other sets and more. Tajah and Cooper (through Bryan) had wanted a place with specific event times so that people would know they could come and hang then.
But the pay cut happened.
It was supposed to be temporary.
In November I got hired by the Whip. Spitfire was right behind me by about a week. Cooper paid for Whip advertising for three months, and we did some shows there, but by Mid January at the latest, mum was telling us to cut back and more. There was also a couple of other issues in the background that made us choose to quit the Old Guard, the least of which was the calculated total of what Cooper owed us – 500L/w for months … I came up with 10,000L owed.
Except that it was Tajah that was paying the DJs that, not Cooper.
And he had banished her when she came back because her reasons for poofing weren’t good enough.
I began to really not enjoy being around Cooper.
You’d think Tajah would pay off the DJs to keep her name good and in the clear. That didn’t happen either. Even a good-sized fraction would have helped.
Cooper and I are both Canadian, but we are also both very different types of Canadians. I’m socialist, he’s not so much. He’s anti-union, I’m pro-union. He hates Trudeau. I ♥ Trudeau.
One of the things I would do was tell him about the green grass growing in my part of Canada when he was 4 metres or more under in snow. Or about hockey rivalries. Or similar stuff. Normal things that Eastern middle vs Wet Coast Canadians do to each other.
Except he didn’t like that I made him “look bad in front of patrons.”
But there was rarely patrons.
Except for Tammy and Horace.
I had been told by Tajah and Cooper to go ahead and do things to make those two go away. Sometimes, I succeeded. Other times, not so much.
Horace is a dom – dirty old man – but not a dominant. He and I butted heads a few times. Tammy is his main squeeze on Second Life. They came on, went to the Old Guard, did stuff, usually annoyed me or someone else there, and would leave. Because they were there, we couldn’t leave to do other things and end a shift early. We’d be stuck there playing for low tippers the entire shift.
I never forgave Horace for demanding one of “my girls” strip for him. Tammy, however, and I, eventually had a detante. Horace, however, is still not one of my favorite people.
There’s also when I DJed through not 1, not 2, but 3 root canals in 3 weeks, all on the same day of the week, at the Old Guard. I think only one of those three weeks I had off by sheer luck, but I was still broadcasting and more.
I earned my stripes.
I don’t think I took a week off, maybe a shift or two, during my time there until I fell, bad, in real life. It was three weeks before I could lie in my bed again. Nothing broke, but a lot of hurt. I’m amazed I didn’t break anything.
Domlypanties, however, proved he was worthless during this time. He flaked off when I needed him.
I still believe that if I can sit at my desk, I can make the music happen. Spitfire doesn’t like that in me.
When Cooper banished Tajah, he had a series of girls for a while. Eventually, he settled on “Angel.”
Angel was no Angel. In the last month, we were there, Spitfire and I only saw her a couple of times. She, however, became a thorn in Coyote’s side.
Coyote, however, took the torn and decided to play with it with wanton abandon of schadenfreude.
Angel reworked the castle, putting no less than 23 of the BDSM triskele signs. She did other garish changes, that Bryan tried to mediate.
Angel caused Eternatee to quit. I don’t know all the details, but I know in the aftermath, Angel said to a staff member that “Cooper doesn’t control me.”
If I said something like that about Spitfire, I’d be in deep doggy doo.
That’s the problem all the staffers have seen. Angel is running wild, bratty, and throwing major tantrums. People are coming to the Old Guard, but in spite to her, not because they love the place or people.
Then, the castle disappeared.
Coyote kept on DJing.
Until.. a few days ago.
Bryan got his walking papers from Cooper, right at the end of Coyote’s set.
Coyote quit on the spot.
From 6 DJs to 2.
And, supposedly, Angel knows all these DJs that would love coming in.
Two days ago, I saw a posting from the Old Guard. It was changing its name and the old groups would be deleted after everyone was ejected, and invites to the new place would happen.
I’m still waiting for my invite to the new place. At least now I have two free group slots.
I miss the castle, the grotto, spending time with Bryan… two and a half years djing there… Fun times, sad times, arguments, outright tantrums, and more. And Bryan was there the entire time to soothe a pissed off Dj’s nerves, even when her dominant made it so she could only talk to him about business.
Bryan, more so than Cooper or Tajah, was the heart of the Old Guard. He did everything. He ran everything. He made sure everything functioned.
Time to move on.
Time to prepare for the Scifi expo in SL.
I do know one thing: wherever Bryan ends up, I’ll follow. So will Coyote and Spitfire. I know he’s enjoying his vacation from “6 days a week work for (5? 6?) years.” Between the mansion and the Old Guard, especially me as his main DJ… He deserves a vacation!
Spitfire and I have a long road ahead of us. She’s my dominant, and neither of our bdsm needs are being met because her real life is breaking her heart. We are talking again, but the words fail me. I am having horrible “conquer me” feelings, and she’s not sure how to handle me in it. I’m feeling rattled and alone, and unable to have my needs met by her. Not that she can’t meet them, but that she doesn’t have the mental energy to do so. If her father wasn’t dying… If if if… I feel so selfish.
If wishes were horses, I’d be in the middle of a stampede.
“I’m in it for the long haul, mine,” she said today, just before going to bed.
Then why do I feel as if I am being abandoned all over again?