Mistress Strangelove or : How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love My Kinks
The (Mis)Adventures Of A Reluctant Mistress
Chapter 1 : A Shopping Addict Is Born
Chapter 2 : My Inner Bimbo
Chapter 3 : If The Nuns From My Catholic Grade School Only Knew
Chapter 4 : With Bells On
Chapter 5 : Would You Dance With Me?
Chapter 6 : Its Harder Than Walking And Chewing Gum
Chapter 7 : One Woman's Porn Is Another Woman's Research
Chapter 8 : 'With Bells On' In Real Life
In Real Life I was tired and my eyelids were drooping, but I wanted to go to one more place, Lost Dog, the store with the good, but expensive animation overrider I was looking at earlier. I wandered around their store looking at all the other animations first, trying out the dances and poses. And that's when I heard the five words that would change the course of my future in Second Life, although I didn't realize it at the time.
"Would you dance with me?" came the query. "I'd like to test out this dance animation for my club and it would be easier if I had a partner," a beautiful blond in a little black dress named Helena Kirkorian said. Helena has a particularly ebullient chat style, I won't even attempt to replicate it or imitate it. You have to experience it yourself. I will instead stick to the essential things that were said.
"You mean me?" I said looking around and finding out I was the only one standing nearby.
"Yes, it won't take long and it would help me out a lot."
"Sure," was my answer, the word that most defines me, and will probably be my epitaph.
As I mentioned before, I am usually game to try out anything once. I dislike the 'contempt prior to investigation' attitude, even though, if you've noticed I've practiced it a lot in the first two days of my Second Life existance.
I clicked on the pink portion of the duet dance and quickly began dancing a nice, solo dance.
"That's not usual," the pretty blond said, "usually the avatar stands still until the other one is clicked on."
I was willing to take her word for it, having never used a two person animation yet in Second Life. She clicked on the blue portion and we were quickly dancing a very well done dance.
"I'm not used to leading," she joked as her avatar twirled mine about in a complex tango. "Those silks look really good on you, I can tell you've spent a lot of time making your avatar look good."
I blushed. Here was someone with real Second Life experience complimenting me on my choices. I realized I must have been doing something right. After finding out I was a complete newbie, she stated she was even more impressed. All worries and regrets about spending all that money on my avatar melted away.
We talked and danced for over an hour, while a series of friends of hers teleported in, chatted, and then went about their business. She told me about the club she ran, Paradise Lost, and that she was outfitting it with some more dances and this one seemed very good.
Paradise Lost! That's one of my favorite works of literature. Milton packed more insight, characterization, and story into that one piece than most writers could possibly produce in their entire lives. I've read it enough times that I can't accurately count them.
One of my favorite excerpts is the following:
Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
Said then the lost Arch Angel, this the seat
That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom
For that celestial light? Be it so, since hee
Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
What shall be right: fardest from him is best
Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less then hee
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.
But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,
Th' associates and copartners of our loss
Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,
And call them not to share with us their part
In this unhappy Mansion, or once more
With rallied Arms to try what may be yet
Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?
Note that within the space of such few lines, are introduced three phrases that are still well known in English.
We talked about Paradise Lost (club and book), literature, religion, and philosophy. She invited me back to the club to see it and to meet a few people. In Real Life, I love dancing in clubs and having found out there were clubs in Second Life, I was anxious to see one, especially one themed after my favorite piece of literature. In Real Life, I've never seen a club with such a bold theme, they pander to the lowest common denominator, throw in a dance ball, a few lights, a fog machine, and let the DJ play some bland tracks and you have yourself a club.
I quickly bought the AO I was debating about and we teleported back to Paradise Lost. Worries about how much it cost disappeared, I was energized about meeting people that I could talk about literature and philosophy with and I just wanted to get there quickly. The concept of listening to good music, 'dancing', and good conversation had a strong allure for me.
At that time, Paradlise Lost was located at the end of a mall in a three story building. It was decorated as a cathredral with stained glass, a huge pipe organ, and an altar. Thankfully, in Real Life I had been to a brew pub set in an old cathedral where the brewing apparatus was on the altar, so a dance club in a cathedral didn't set off the Catholic blasphemy sense pounded into me and honed by years of instruction by nuns.
It was gorgeous. I hadn't been in Second Life long, but this place was tremendous and I started to finally see what I assumed Second Life was going to be like - fantastic places brought to life in a virtual environment. It wasn't just about sex as I was starting to think from my trip to Xcite and and all the trollops I'd seen standing around and blinging. I oohed and aahed appropriately and commented about all the nice touches I noticed.
I met Helena's friends, Dakota, Rob, and Brianicus. Some of the core people who ran the club. The place was empty except for us. Helena and I showed off the new dances to the others and we all joined in dancing and talking.
I don't think I've had that much fun in a club in ages. We danced for hours more that night, talking about literature, science, philosopy, and religion. We made endless amounts of jokes based on religion, sex, and heaven and hell. This was truly the moment I became addicted to Second Life. Shopping is great, building is great, scripting is great, but finding people you are this comfortable with and have so much in common with is priceless. Mastercard could make a commercial about it.
Where else could I talk about everything from cosmology, to literature, to Tao philosophy, make jokes filled with innuendo and sly puns, and listen to great Euro dance music? And better yet, have others talk about the same thing? I could go to any other club and hold a monologue on those subjects, but at Paradise Lost, I learned from the people around me. Here were people that could contribute to a conversation like that and seriously challenge my knowledge of them. I still haven't found a better place in Second Life and at that point, I resolved to go there as much as possible. This was incredible.
After a few hours of this, came the next line that would change my Second Life for good. Helena had a streak going that night. Helena asked, "would you like to work here at Paradise Lost? You would fit in perfectly."
Finally, here was the job offer I was looking for in my first day in Second Life and it was only my second day. Things were looking up for me. Paradise Lost seemed to be a great place to be, with wonderful people who had similar interests and tastes as I did. In Real Life, I'd ran raves, I'd worked in clubs, and I still went to them regularly - I was very suited to working in a dance club.
"What would I be doing?" I asked excitedly.
"Dancing and escorting," Helena replied and then added with a sly smile, "Although, you will have to interview with me before you can be an escort."
Dancing! Escorting! I was in a den of the sex trade! How could that be? These people were well educated, fantastic conversationalists, and in general the complete opposite of my mental pictures of what escorts and people who worked in the sex business would be like. And worse, they saw me as someone who would be good in the sex business. I may be dressed like a hooker, I reassured myself, but I was nothing like one, okay, after meeting these people, perhaps I was similar to one, but I continued to cling to my resolve, I wasn't going to do it.
The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. The dance poles scattered about the place, took on a whole new meaning. They are not completely unusual in Real Life clubs nowadays where stripper chic has infiltrated the culture of acceptable behavior. Also, a few of the comments before started to make more sense. Yet again, I had been clueless and blond and couldn't add two and two to get a reasonable four.
What was I to do? I couldn't insult these people, they were great and I wanted to spend more time talking with them. But, me, a stripper and escort? Never. Maybe I could just hang out here and talk with the people and not work here. Somehow, I could ignore what they did.
"Thank you for the generous offer Helena, I'll think about it," I replied.
We danced, talked, and laughed some more before everyone had to go to bed. My second day in Second Life had been a long one and I learned a lot and changed a lot. I went to bed with the whole concept of escorting and dancing running through my head. I was definitely not going to do either, but I definitely wanted to report back to my friend who had first mentioned the idea to me. Now I had tales to tell her of my own.
My ideas about escorts had to shift, Helena and Dakota were wonderful and completely opposite to what I originally thought of as an escort. Evidently they could deal with their situation and reconciled it in their mind. But I was certain I would never do it, it was wrong, it was dirty, and it just wasn't for me.
I may be a bimbo, I may be loose, and I may be easy, but I knew I wasn't so easy that waving a little money in front of me would get me into bed. I had my pride. Before going to bed with a guy, I had to like him or at least find him cute or be drunk. A momentary flash of what it would be like to be an escort crossed my mind and was instantly dismissed. As I drifted off to sleep, I knew it wasn't going to happen, I was adamant about that.
Next Chapter: Its Harder Than Walking And Chewing Gum