So, 2018 went off with a bang for me!
I’ve been discussing with Kittlen about where our relationship is heading. We both care about and have helped each other through various rocky periods over the last few years.
Kittlen brought up the issue of trust, stating that she didn’t feel that my land in Second Life was her land. While I’ve allowed her to add various things, I hadn’t given her permission to move items around my property. And she had allowed me to see where in Second Life she is, but I had not yet given her the similar capacity. I’ve since granted her those abilities, with the proviso that she exercise these powers with care.
In some respect, that decision was a no-brainer. I’ve known Kittlen for over two years now, and feel I can trust her. But it is a big step, particularly for an introverted person like me. Letting someone alter your online world? That is like allowing them to change your dreams and memories.
The year is drawing to a close, and it is time to look back and reflect.
I have changed a lot this year, in self-realisation, growth and achievement. At the start, I was still submissive, but beginning to explore the world of dominance with members of my D/s family. And now, that dominance has grown and matured, with the help of my girl Kittlen. 🙂
Kittlen’s former dom resurfaced last Thursday. Ezee hasn’t been on Second Life or FetLife for months. He made a few brief appearances on Facebook and Twitter, which I know about because both Kittlen and Coyote reported this to me.
( The events in this blog post took place between the 9th and 17th November 2017. )
This past week has not been great, for myself or Kittlen.
It should have been great. A chance for us both to recharge. But things didn’t turn out the way they should have.
(I had pushed myself too far, and, when telling my owner, she decided that I should have a mind vacation—a hypnotic trance that would last until midnight Sunday my time. Kittlen was not involved in the decision—she was told of it, and given no choice. She has permitted me to use her own words from her point of view. The entire journal, with our commentary to each other, may never see the light of the internet. It was a tool she used to help her get through.)
If you’ve ever bumped into me in Second Life, you will have noticed that I look radically different from most folks. My skin is dark blue, with rainbow spots from my neck to my feet, I have enormous ears and antennae, large purple eyes, lips and facial markings, and invariably sport a pink hairdo. 🙂 I frequently get compliments on my looks, which is nice.
I’ve not always looked that way. In fact, my avatar has been through quite an evolution since I first entered the Second Life grid. A development that has reflected how my perception of myself has changed over time.
On Friday, after my regular DJ set at Old Guard in Second Life, I went with my Kittlen to one of the regular discussions at the P3 sim. The subject was “Owned”, and both of us had a fair bit to say on that, from both sides of the equation.
I’d known for a while that my Kittlen has a problem with her Second Life spending. Gachas, in particular, were a weakness of hers. (Gachas are devices that you pay a set amount into to receive one of many possible items. Some common, others rare. If this sounds like a gambling machine, that’s because it is, pretty much.) When you’re capable of going from 7000 Linden Dollars down to 100 in the space of a day, that is a concern. I’d cajoled Kittlen into avoiding gachas, with some success. But she was still doing too much retail therapy for my liking. And she was finding excuses to justify her purchases. Stuff for events, to give as gifts to people, pink items that she’d pass on to me.
It got to a point last Sunday where she’d gone and purchased stuff, yet again, without consulting me first. And I decided that my nudges weren’t working, and it required more drastic action to get her to change her ways. Little did I realise how much it would affect both her and myself.
I’m sat in the YMO Galleria with Kittlen in my arms, once again.
I still have to pinch myself. Me, a dominant? Yes. I’m still getting used to and learning about this new responsibility, but it isn’t the deep dive I thought it would be.