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
The third day dawned and I was excited to talk to my friend and tell her I was asked to be an escort at a club, especially since we had just talked about it the night before. I hadn't even had cybersex yet, how could I become an escort? Dancing made no sense to me either, why would anyone watch someone's avatar maneuver through the same set of repetitive motions over and over - let alone pay money for it?
I spent most of the day wandering around Second Life doing a little shopping, but my major spending orgy had subsided and I was merely window shopping in most cases. Also, my credit card was threatening to kill me if I didn't slow down. As it was, buyer's remorse had set in a few times, but I kept getting compliments on my appearance, which helped to mollify the tiny, fiscally responsible Tiessa inside. Poor thing, it was always outnumbered and ineffectual, I sympathized with it, but not enough to listen to it and stop spending money.
Each day in Second Life had resulted in numerous discoveries; little did I know that today would be no different in that regard. Second Life brought out more learning in a shorter period of time than I could have ever expected.
Eventually, my friend logged in and I told her all that had happened, including the fateful offer of employment as a dancer and escort at Paradise Lost. We both rejected doing that but we talked about it for a while. She eventually made some comments that egregiously generalized the people I had met, lumping them in with the same general class of people I originally thought worked in the sex trade. As you can tell from my previous writings, I am horrible at detecting prejudice and bigotry in myself, but I think I am still decent at seeing it in others. Being fairly hypocritical, I couldn't let her misconceptions continue, so I told her in greater depth about the conversation I had with the wonderful folks at Paradise Lost. We had discussed literature, philosophy, and science; they weren't unintelligent people who couldn't do anything but spread their legs and moan.
She had to leave and I wandered off to Paradise Lost to dance and talk. That was when I found out how dead Sunday nights in Second Life can be. This was still when there were frequently less than 10,000 concurrent users of Second Life.
I was alone, when a man walked into Paradise Lost. I thought, "Yay! Someone to talk to." I invited him to join me in the really nice dance animation I shared with Helena the previous night. We talked about lots of different things, what he liked about Second Life, how I was a newbie and was still learning a lot about Second Life, and, in general, just learning about each other.
It isn't until now, when I am writing this, that I realize he was probably showing up to Paradise Lost to find a dancer or an escort and I was the only one there, dressed as I was. I'm blushing in retrospect for what he thought I was. Does my cluelessness know no bounds?
He eventually told me about the house he was building. It was a rustic cottage among trees he was proud of and had been working on. I hadn't built a thing in Second Life yet and was impressed that someone could build a house - I thought it would require a lot of effort, technical knowledge, artistic skill, and special tools. He offered to show it to me and I accepted while making the prescient comment, "Is this the Second Life equivalent of asking me back to your place to show me your etchings?" We both laughed at my clever bon mot and teleported back to his place.
Second Life is incredible in that I could go back to a complete stranger's place within minutes of meeting him and feel perfectly safe - thank you Linden Labs for introducing me to a world I never knew existed, a world of safety. I have numerous friends who've been raped in Real Life and I have been in some situations that I thought were creepy and dangerous; one thing I am always cognizant of is the potential for being overpowered. It takes a while for me to feel comfortable enough with a guy to be completely alone with him. Meeting a guy in a club and minutes later going back to his home all alone is something that never would occur to me in Real Life. Second Life has introduced me to a feeling of safety and security that is unachievable in Real Life, thank you again Linden Labs - that experience alone is worth every penny I have given you.
He showed me around the cottage, it was very nice and he had spent time and thought into making it very cozy. This is the first time I saw sex pose balls in someplace other than a display at a shop and I also saw pictures of an attractive avatar in a collar and silks. I innocently went around asking questions about everything.
To reinforce with you how I act, I'd like to point out that I flirt constantly, with nothing more on my mind then enjoying a good laugh. I make frequent double entendres, fascinating myself with my own clever word-play and seeing if I can make better, more subtle, or more amusing ones all the time. It's a game I constantly play with myself and others just happen to be in the room providing the raw material for my fun; the world is my straight-man. Consequently, I have been accused on numerous occasions of being a tease. Not necessarily in such nice words either. Get used to it guys, just because I make a ribald comment or pun does not mean I immediately want to hop onto a sex pose ball with you.
I mentioned how it was nearly impossible for men to not hit on women, especially when they were alone together. He demurred, stating that he was happy with the love of his Second Life. Considering all the pictures of her around, curiosity got the better of me and I asked him how he met her.
"I met her in a rape room."
Startled and uncertain what to say for once, I floundered while all sorts of thoughts streamed through my head. Eventually the story all came out. He went to a place where people pretend rape scenes. She wanted to be raped and was turned on by it, he was turned on by raping women, and he reassured me he would never do that in Real Life. Yeah, right guy, I've been to the Brooklyn Bridge and I didn't see any 'for sale' signs on it. I may be blonde, a bimbo, and a ditz but I am not stupid. Now she was his kajira and he was thoroughly in love with her. Not knowing what a kajira was I asked further and that was when Gor was introduced to me.
So many things about this situation offended me on so many levels - rape, slavery, and the total abasement of one person to another. Here was a person who seemed very nice, perhaps a little strong and forceful, but confidence is a sexy trait, and he was telling me that he was turned on by raping women and owning them as slaves. So very matter of fact as if it was something the local church group would approve of. Visions of mousey men in dull suits sitting around talking about where to rape women, the best rape positions, and the correct whipping techniques crossed my mind. Ward Cleaver coming home from a hard day in the rape rooms to find June chained in her silks to a post in the kitchen where he gives her a light whipping and a kiss hello.
Normally, I'm pretty much "whatever floats your boat", but some things are just patently offensive. This situation started to creep me out, but the guy still seemed completely normal. And then, despite all his protestations to the contrary he did the thing I expected all along, "May I kiss you?" came the query.
As I predicted earlier and which he denied vehemently, he ended up hitting on me. I told him I was still new and had no idea how to kiss someone - I was still reeling from the whole rape and slavery thing and was just stalling while thinking. He showed me his kiss pose balls and we kissed briefly, mainly because I was curious and knew I was safe. I wanted to get out of there quickly. Finishing the kiss, I complimented him on his building skills and his choice of such a beautiful slave, but stated I had to get up early the next day and had to go.
I teleported back to Paradise Lost, the closest thing I had to a sanctuary and home at that point. There were a few people around I had never met and I started to talk to them. Eventually, they all left and I was left alone in Paradise Lost when another man entered.
We started up a conversation and began to dance the nice dance animation; I figured he couldn't be worse than the previous guy. Boy was I wrong :) [Edit: I know he will be reading this :P] Carl was a thin guy with a beard and, interestingly enough, a collar. This was the first time I'd seen a collar on someone besides the picture of that slave, so I asked him about it, why he wore if, if he too was a slave, etc. He stated he wasn't owned, but had been for a while, and deftly deflected most of my other questions about the subject.
Carl was far better at verbal banter, and far more interesting than the previous guy. We started by talking about chess, since he just lost a match to someone from Paradise Lost and seemed miffed by it. He was far more my type of guy, articulate, slightly geeky, but in a cute and adorable way. We talked about me being a newbie and, as in most conversations with guys, the subject eventually turned to sex.
After I expressed my lack of knowledge of cybersex and why it would be interesting, Carl tried to demonstrate a few lines he would type. I still didn't get it, I found it very hard to "get into" the head of the avatar and pretend like those things were happening to me. I laughed a lot, I giggled, and many times I unconsciously changed the subject to something besides sex. However, the subject always quickly returned to sex because of my continued joking about it.
At some point in this conversation with Carl, I made the decision to have cybersex if I could figure out how to do it properly. Carl was going to be my guinea pig. Further talking with Carl came up with an analogy to dirty talking, something I had always been too embarrassed to do in Real Life, but finally, I hit upon the idea that seemed to work for me, the shared creation of a fantasy. Using the descriptions of actions like a play direction for actors or writing a story about the characters from a first person perspective. It still seemed pretty pointless, but at least I had an idea of the verbal mechanics. If I got it out of the way now, I could put a checkmark next to it on my constantly growing list of things to do in Second Life, then, I could proceed on with more productive ways to spend time.
My intentions established, it still required Carl to be as patient as a saint and a Herculean effort on my part to remain serious for more than twenty seconds at a time for anything to happen. After a few hours of this (I never said I was rapidly successful in my effort, did I?), Carl finally mentioned which time zone it was for him and I realized he was three hours ahead of me and it was getting close to midnight for me. That sobered me up enough and I told him I wanted to try it but had no idea where to go. He had a place and we teleported back there.
One of the things Carl and I kept returning to in our conversation was high heeled shoes. I was wearing my color changing stripper heels I purchased the previous day and Carl liked the look of them. One of Carl's turn-ons was women in high heels and we talked about it for a while. When we got back to his place, he wrote lines about what he wanted to do with my high heeled feet, meanwhile I made observations about his room and was joking about non-related topics for a while before I settled in and realized I was going to have to do something "appropriate". I wrote back lines about how sore my feet were from dancing in those high heels all night and how I appreciated the massage and the toe sucking. It felt very unreal and my attempts were not that good - I had no experience with online sex and it showed.
Eager to show off my new purchases from Xcite and thinking that was "the way it is done in Second Life", I put them on and told Carl about them. Knowing Carl he probably made some remark about how "good girls like you pretend to be, don't immediately purchase that much Xcite gear." If he didn't say it, he probably thought it.
Carl also removed his clothes and "put on" his cock. He showed me the "up" and the "down" positions. It felt like we were both showing off our genitals as if they were fashion statements and discussing their features as if they were cars or computers. I was about to make a joke here about cocks and measuring their performance in horsepower, but that would be tasteless. And besides, a man's cock just can't measure up - okay, let me take that back, I have now seen cocks in Second Life that are nearly as big as their owner. If they had that in Real Life, the first time it got hard, they would die due to lack of blood to their other brain.
One of my "good girl" purchases at Xcite had been a blow job animation that I had installed in my "clit". I wanted to try it out, so I activated it and my avatar went down on her knees, grabbed an invisible cock in mid-air, and began to bob her head and stroke this non-existent penis. To say the least, I was disappointed, Carl was half-way across the room and my avatar was no where near him. Yet, there she was giving some ghost the blow job of his afterlife. It took a while to maneuver both avatars into place so that it looked nearly right.
The little green text that kept displaying was nice, but it quickly got repetitive. It took me forever to describe the actions I would do in Real Life without thinking, but now I had to translate them into words. This was definitely unlike Real Life sex; I'm not a big 'thinking sex' person :) It was like learning to write good descriptive text in a story - I have problems in writing descriptive text because, after all, *I* can picture it perfectly in my head, so, I unconsciously concentrated on the action and dialog, devoid of the setting. No one wants to read a story like that, this was the same, I automatically pictured it in my head but failed to translate a lot of that into useful text.
Around this time, my avatar had an orgasm, followed shortly by his avatar having an orgasm. Was I done? Was he done? How did this work? I'm used to more warning of an impending orgasm. In Real Life it would be time for him to roll over and go to sleep, but how did this work in Second Life? Still not quite getting the purpose of cybersex, I asked Carl if this was the end. We talked some more and discussed the problems of the animations, the Xcite gear, and I learned that the "arousal levels" were controllable. Carl had to go to bed; it was very late in the morning for me as well, so off to our respective Real Life beds we went.
I've contemplated this question some over the ensuing months, what is the ultimate purpose of cybersex and what is the ending point? In Real Life, the shared experience, the physical demonstration of an emotional bond, the mutual pleasure, and the culmination in orgasm by one or both partners all contribute to the purpose and "when it's done". I've since had many cybersex experiences where my partner had Real Life orgasms and that seems a natural ending point for them and their avatar. However, I have also had numerous experiences where it became almost a competition to create more and more inventive text. In the end, only through "out of band" communications via IM were we able to agree on an ending point.
This ended my introductory weekend to Second Life. I learned *a lot* about myself and this new virtual world that I was already addicted to. Thankfully, Real Life work was at a low point allowing me to plan more nights in the upcoming week that I could spend in Second Life. I already wanted to spend as much time there as possible, the exploration, the shopping, and the people were all major draws for me.
In the end cybersex was an interesting experience. Trying to coordinate typing creative text, activating animations, fiddling with Xcite attachments, and removing clothes was a far more complex and involved process than I thought. It was even more difficult than walking and chewing gum, which as a blonde ditz, can be pretty trying at times. I'm not joking; this simple activity has caused numerous problems in my life. I'll be walking along, my mind will wander, and the next thing I know I've walked straight into a brick wall. I have had the scraped nose and headache to prove it.
Next Chapter: One Woman's Porn Is Another Woman's Research
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Mistress Strangelove or : How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love My Kinks