Kurt Vonnegut Quote

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful who we pretend to be"
- Kurt Vonnegut

Mistress Strangelove Is Running Behind

Darn RL and its incessant demands - I'm sorry the chapter is running behind, but RL is really slowing me down this week. I will publish it as soon as I can.

Mistress Strangelove: Chapter 5: Would You Dance With Me?

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

The Growing Neko Fashion

It seems a number of people are going 'Neko'. I should post pictures of my own Neko experiment and in an upcoming chapter of my memoirs, you will get a taste of my RL Neko day last Halloween.

I love the link Vint posted to the Web Neko code that allows you to put a cute little Neko on you page. And I'm even happier that it works with Blogger.

Click on the cute little cat and watch it run around your web page.

Keep Your Friends Close And Your Enemies Closer

I wrote up my one experience with the Alliance Navy in a previous post, where I ended up asking a number of the sailors I encountered, "Who is your enemy?" No one could answer that question. They had guns, they were told to guard the base, but they didn't know who to guard against. They ended up not being able to keep out a bored escort, I didn't think they would be successful against a determined enemy, especially if the enemy showed up in camoflage mini-skirts.

Recently the Second Life Herald posted that the Alliance Navy is in a war! Finally, my question was answered.

As reported earlier, attempts by Herald correspondent Urizenus Sklar to mediate peace talks failed recently and the Alliance Navy, one of the oldest military organizations in SL, and the Merczateers, a former ally of the Alliance Navy, began open warfare for the oldest causes of war in human history; land and pride.

A few months ago, the Alliance Navy and the Merczateers were allies. As with any organizations that compete in the same arena, there was a certain amount of competition between the two but in general they shared the same goals and operated as well as any alliance can.

So, the answer is that they fight with their erstwhile allies! The drama demonstrated in the comments to that article, is amusing. The guys, who are supposedly the stable, non-emotional and logical ones, are having a cat fight over hurt feelings and who stole who's knife. Evidently the admirals and generals are having a hissy-cow over some minor thing and started a war over it. And people say I can be moody and vindictive.

If you substitute 'curling iron' or 'boyfriend' into this, you could have any old drama I'm used to seeing. The difference is that when someone steals my boyfriend, I do passive aggressive things like destroying their reputation by spreading the rumor that they are a slut. The guys, not to be out-done, do overtly aggressive things like launching a war and destroying property. Isn't there such a thing as "proportional response"?

Make Me A Bimbo

I was going through my Google Analytics and looking at what people who came to my site from Google searched for.

make me a bimbo: Type this into Google and I'm the *third* result - yay me! In searching for just 'bimbo' to see if I placed in the top 10 pages, which I don't, I found this wonderful definition of bimbo: "Bimbo is short for the term 'body impressive brain optional'." That has got to be my new slogan.

Perhaps I will start a deportment school to teach 'How To Be A Bimbo' to innocent wallflowers who want to blossom. Or write 'An Idiot's Guide To Being A Bimbo". Even better, write 'A Bimbo's Guide To....' I'm making a mental note to start a new series based on that idea as soon as possible. Heck, I'll trademark it :)

Other notable Google search terms that lead to my page are:
"second life" "mistress" escort: For which this site places *second* - now all I have to do is sit back and wait for the submissive male clients to roll in :)

screaming catholic orgasm: Something I know *nothing* about. Or so I would have the nuns believe.

second life alliance navy: Where I place on the fourth page. BTW, I found out who the Alliance Navy's enemies are. I will post that separately.

Going through the referrals and the search terms is always amusing for a site. You end up discovering the weird things people search for.

This Is Just Sad

The Second Life Insider has a post showing a Machinima memorializing a member of the teen grid, Kit Axon. Kit had to leave her friends behind and go on to the adult grid, her best friend won't be migrating for *two years*. It's a wonderfully done machinima, have the tissues ready if you are anything like me.

Veyron Supercharge, Welcome To Meta-Blogging

I received an IM from someone who read my blog last week, a certain Veyron Supercharge. After talking and learning a lot about her, she decided to jump into the meta-blogging world and share her experiences. I wish I could give some things away about her upcoming experiences, but that would spoil all the fun. Go over and watch the stories unfold.

Mistress Strangelove: Chapter 4: With Bells On

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

My second day in Second Life was a Saturday and I spent all day logged in, I was addicted already and I hadn't noticed. I went to the Xcite store and looked around. The blushing and the laughing in Real Life continued as I saw clits, cocks, and more exotic accoutrements. I was constantly surprised at each new thing I discovered. I noticed the BDSM section and gave it a wide berth, I may be looking at pierced clits and cocks that erupt virtual semen, but I was not one of *those* sickos I reassured myself.

You may be wondering how I could be continually surprised at each new discovery. That, at some point, I would actually "get it". I have thought about it a lot and my only explanation is that I have terminal naiviety, a short-term memory like a sieve, and an attention span that makes a hyperactive gnat look like a Zen Master.

In the end, my shopping addict took over and I bought "one of everything". Well, one of everything that a nice, wholesome, normal American girl would buy. You know, a clit, nipple clamps, belly piercing, hair, butt, lips, sounds, a HUD, and animations for all occasions. The type of things your mother would approve of, you know, normal.

Somehow, I was purchasing all of these things without the slightest conscious intention of using them. Probably a subconscious part of me was intrigued and thought trying out cybersex once would be informational. And I couldn't disappoint my future cybersex partner by not being fully "accessorized", could I? Besides, I'd always said to myself I'd do most anything once, I dislike the "disdain before investigation" attitude. Rationalization, your name is Tiessa.

Having completed that shopping spree, in which I bought *more* Lindens, I was now fully outfitted. Proper Second Life sex was expensive and I still had no examples of how it worked or what occurred. You may wonder why I didn't go about cybersex in a more cautious, learn as you go, and incremental purchase method. If you scan back over the preceeding paragraphs, I'd like you to notice the words blond, ditzy, naive, and shopaholic which are all important parts of the answer. Also, if I tended to be that type of person I wouldn't have a life reminescent of a Lucille Ball skit, I wouldn't have any of these experiences, and you wouldn't be reading this from me but rather from some other occasionally self-reflective blonde ditz.

I am a perfect example of Santayana's "doomed to repeat it" comment as it applies to personal experiences and history. I don't usually commit the same mistake twice, but I do make similiar mistakes by not properly generalizing what happens to me or carefully considering my actions in light of previous incidents. In the end though, I don't really want to "fix" that about me. I enjoy being me to no end and only when my mistakes harm others do I feel motivated to change.

My personal philosophy is pretty simple, approach everything as if you were a child seeing it for the first time. The continual wonderment over the marvelous universe where each tree and blade of grass is unique and deserving of hours of examination is central to who I am. Its why I became a biologist and why I have an abiding love for cosmology. I frequently say, "I may grow older, but I will never grow up." In the end, I don't want to lose that fresh view of everything. Perhaps I'm an experience junky who enjoys the continual rush of newness.

That's also how I approach people - I like meeting people and experiencing them the same way I do everything else. I love the uniqueness and differentiation between individuals, what motivates each person and why they do what they do. Unfortunately, I am also an inveterate meddler when it comes to other people. I like to "help" people, where "help" is often defined as "what I think they need." You'll see numerous examples of that in the coming tales.

The one Xcite gadget I purchased that I was squeemish about was the nipple clamps. However, given the choice between an invisible "no jewelry" option for boobs and a "with jewelry" option, I had to go for the jewelry, didn't I? It was a bargain, functional jewelry for only a few Lindens more than the base model. Besides the model I chose had bells on it and when I walked they jingled. After that discovery I wore them everywhere, polite company or not, I loved the sound of them jingling. And it was easy to cognitive dissonance away the fact that the jingling was actually bells clamped to my nipples that shook when my boobs wobbled as I walked, in fact, until I began to write this sentence I never really realized that. I'm blushing heavily in retrospect for many months of cluelessnes.

When I was buying my blue silks at the beginning of this shopping spree, I noticed a couple of trashily dressed girls who must have been hookers. They were blinging from every attachment point on their body and dressed in skimpy, sexy clothes. All I knew was that I was not one of those types of girls. I had style, sophistication, and class. Somedays I wonder how I never saw "normal" clothing during that first day in Second Life, no t-shirts, jeans, or sweaters. The first few shops I went to had silks and it was all downhill from there. Besides, its 'warm' in Second Life and I had no need of wearing jeans or sweaters for weather purposes. I wouldn't wear them to the beach would I? I'd wear a skimpy bikini like I do in Real Life. Second Life was one big opportunity to wear beach clothing as far as I was concerned.

At the beginning of my second day in Second Life, I was dressed in newbie clothes I created myself. At the end, I had platinum blond hair, blue silks, stripper shoes, big boobs, and all the Xcite toys my poor avatar could carry. I was fully kitted out, but I kept rationalizing that I may be a bimbo, but a bimbo with class. I was not trashy or even worse, a prostitute like those other women I saw today, I just happened to dress exactly like one.

Next Post: Chapter 5: Will You Dance With Me

Mistress Strangelove: Chapter 3: If The Nuns From My Catholic Grade School Only Knew

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

It was getting late and I ended up talking to the same people that destroyed my credit card by telling me how to buy Lindens. The discussion eventually turned to money and how to make it. We talked about building, designing clothes, scripting, land sales, rentals, and a myriad other ways to make money. The first big name companies had just started to make islands in Second Life and the future looked bright - how were we to divert some of that money into our purses?

Mostly though, we just socialized, telling a little about ourselves and sharing in the excitement of hanging out with new people. I was fascinated by the interpersonal dynamics of Second Life, the fact that people had boyfriends and girlfriends and lived together in virtual houses. They had fights, drama, and all the tropes of Real Life, only transplanted into the virtual world. It was my first virtual world experience, I didn't know what to expect.

I laughed at the concept of giant, cartoon penises having relationship issues. It was only the first time of many that the fundamental absurdities of Second life would make me laugh so hard my sides hurt in Real Life.

Finally, only two of us were left talking and she offered to show me the house her and her boyfriend shared. We teleported over there and she showed me the place. It was nice with chairs, bedside tables, and everything. Very cosy looking. Its very normalcy was surprising.

I asked about her relationship with her boyfriend and that's the moment when the word, cybersex, entered my lexicon. A lot of discussion ensued while I tried to puzzle out this strange concept. I asked questions, laughing and blushing in Real Life as the details unfolded. She was great, telling me all about it and giving me examples of what she typed. Earlier, she alluded to something I might find interesting, but only when we were in private. Now that we were alone, I asked her what it was and the concept of Xcite genitals was introduced.

More discussion and more Real Life blushing and laughing ensued. Then came the demonstration. She showed me her clit, a very personal thing, and told me how it worked, about arousal levels, about the green text and animations. Then came a demonstration of the animations which ultimately resulted in her avatar screaming out an orgasm and sparks erupting from her clit. Laughing and giggling ensued as I talked about how absurd I thought it all was. My Real Life clit felt somehow deficient - fireworks never erupted from it no matter how good the orgasm.

We talked about how she once thought about being an escort, but ultimately rejected the idea. She asked me if I ever thought about being an escort and I told her I hadn't realized cybersex existed until she told me about it. Internally, I noted that I may be a bimbo, but I was not a prostitute, I had my pride.

Cue smugness over being a morally righteous person.

You may be wondering how I got to that point without knowing about cybersex and the sex trade in Second Life. Let me explain. In the articles I read, it did mention escorts briefly. In walking around I did encounter cyber-doxies with their blinging jewelry, sexy clothing, blond hair, and Playboy shapes. I knew about it in an abstract sense, but knew nothing of the mechanics of it, about cybersex, about the animations, etc. The concept sat in the back of my head, but I spent no time thinking about it and how it could possibly be accomplished. I thought it possibly meant arranging assignations in Real Life after meeting in Second Life.

When reading about Second Life, I never thought I would run into any of the sex trade. In Real Life, I've possibly seen a prostitute walking the streets once or twice in my life. I thought it would be nearly as rare. And certainly discussing being an escort as a viable option in normal conversation never crossed my mind as possible. I just asssumed, naively it turns out, that given all the potential inherent in a virtual world, people would do something more productive with it than have sex. I continually overestimate and underestimate humanity.

Already the cracks were appearing on the comfortable, naive shell I'd built around myself all my life. Growing up in a small farming community in the Midwest, going to a Catholic grade school, and, in general, thinking of myself as a 'normal' person had insulated me from thinking about the bulk of humanity.

I pride myself on my perspicacity, but, now, I realize my obtuseness is vastly larger than I ever suspected. I'd always thought that sex played a minor role in my life and I assumed others' lives. The realization that cybersex was common and that sex played a dominant role in other's lives began to dawn on me that second day. Finally, in writing this it hit me that I spend most of my time engaged in quasi-sexual activities. I spend inordinant amounts of time worrying about what men think, I spend a lot of time fixing my makeup and hair, I shop for sexy clothing, I go out a lot and flirt with guys, I had lots of sex in college and afterwards, and in general, I now realize, I spend a good portion of my time focused on activites centered around the human mating ritual.

Second Life has been very good for learning about my self. I always believed I was open-minded and tolerent. Now, reviewing all my thoughts and attitudes coming into Second Life, I realize I was as close-minded and intolerent as anyone else.

My friend had to go to sleep at that point, but I was too excited about Second Life to go to sleep. I decided to check out Xcite, looking couldn't hurt could it? The journey to Xcite was purely for informational purposes and a certain amount of morbid curiosity. I had no plans to ever have cybersex, it made no sense to me. Besides, I was too normal of a person to ever do that.

I was surprised that my friend considered being an escort. I *knew* I was never going to be an escort. Superficially, I recognized that I looked like one, but I knew I wasn't one of them. I was a nice, normal girl with a taste for sexy clothing. Escorts were dirty; I was clean and pure. Granted, for some, "'normal' American sex with lots of guys" definition of the word pure. Okay, maybe not always so 'normal'.

So, off went this clean, normal, and pure girl to the store to look at virtual genitals and sex gadgets as I mulled over the concept of cybersex. I may be easy and I may be slutty, I reassured myself, but at least I don't take money for sex.

Cue smugness over being a morally righteous person.

Next Post: Chapter 4 : With Bells On

Have Cock Will Travel

The Second Life Herald has an amusing article entitled "Have Cock Will Travel" that reminds me too much of myself. The author relates his dating experiences in Second Life.

The emotion and anticipation of real dating was all there and I would actually shave in real life before a Second Life date. Like the real life dates of my single days, things often went wrong for the occasion. Once, I arranged to meet my lady on a spectacular mountain top pinnacle looking over a beautiful valley. I was looking out over the vista when I sent her a teleport invitation that materialized her in front of me in the mid air over the open valley. I got one quick glimpse of her before she plummeted several hundred feet into the foggy valley below.

A few other anecdotes show how he's "too clever by half" and how he causes various other plummeting related date experiences. Mental note, never accept a date invitation from Mariner Trilling.

Secrets And Confessions

Vint is asking people to post secrets about themselves in SL and RL that they haven't revealed before. This is going to be hard, considering I'm posting so much revelatory stuff in my Mistress Strangelove series. I'll try to recap some of my revelations and think of something juicy to throw in.

SL:

• I am a bimbo - wait that's obvious.
  
• I am an escort - wait until you read about my amusing experiences in that profession.
  
• I have tried out being a Mistress on numerous occasions - I don't think I'm giving away too much about the future course of the Mistress Strangelove series to reveal that.
  
• I have tried out being a sub on a few occasions - not so obvious.
  
• I have created an alt - I needed it to do script testing. Its never been out of my villa since I created it.
  
• Like one other reply to Vint, once last year I did fake a crash late one night to ditch a particularly persistant IMer. I abruptly logged out and went to bed - next day I said my client crashed. Yech, I hate lying.
  
• I do occasionally let IMs linger unanswered for a while if I'm busy.
  
• I have always publically admitted I take notes about people - nothing wrong about that. If you haven't noticed I can be a bit ditzy and associating names with stories is not alwasy easy for me. I don't do it to fake sincerity, I do it so I can remember what kinks they like and phrases that seem to work particularly well.

RL:

• I am a bimbo - wait that's obvious.
  
• I am *not* an escort :)
  
• I work for a big corporation.
  
• I can be slutty and a tease on occasions. Okay *most* occasions :)
  
• As I mentioned in my series, I do have black hooker boots with 2" platforms and 6" heels. I have worn them in public. On more than one occasion. Sometimes on days other than Halloween :)
  
• I wear thongs or something skimpier under my clothing.
  
• I was a tomboy as a kid, climbed trees, and generally did a bunch of "non-girlie" stuff. I still climb one of my favorite trees sometimes when I go home to visit my parents.
  
• I like cold pizza for breakfast (the food of the gods) and not peanuts.
  
• I am a natural blond (although I do lighten).
  
• I sleep in nothing but panties.
  
• I have no hair below my head ;) (except on my arms - shaving that would be weird)
  

Nothing particularly earth-shattering - I'm pretty open about most things except my identity. And I'm going to be writing about everything amusing or interesting I did in SL, just keep reading the ongoing story - I don't plan to leave anything out.

Mistress Strangelove: Chapter 2: My Inner Bimbo

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

Festooned out in pretty, blue silks with scripts for removing them (How cute! *blush* *giggle*), blond hair (only a few shades more bimbo than my real life hair), stripper heels (they were a bargain - they changed color *and* had sexy walk. I *saved* money by buying them.) In no time, I was a walking, talking, undulating advertisement for sex. I was out shopping for clothes, and I was affronted when some guy walked up to me and instant messaged, "Wanna fcuk [sic]?"

"How dare he say that to *me*?"

"Who does he think *I* am?"

"I'm not some cheap hooker that can be treated like that!"

"He didn't even talk to me first. I am used to dinner at the very least before guys work up the courage to say that to me. Okay, maybe just drinks sometimes."

"Oooo, look at that sexy outfit - I'd look *hot* in that!"

I was shopping at the time and I noticed an outfit I'd overlooked before. Righteous indignation has no place when confronted with pretty clothes - a girl's got to have her priorities.

In Real Life my blond hair acts as a superconductor - common sense and critical thought flow out of my head without resistance and ditziness enters unrestrained.

The epiphany happened later that day when I was adjusting a newly purchased shape that had the cutest face. I was giving it the correct body proportions by trying to recreate my real life appearance. After all, I'd seen those sex-pots walking around and I didn't want to end up looking like a trashy slut.

Looking down in real life...

"Hmmm, bigger boobs, I've always wanted bigger boobs."

Adjust.

"Maybe a bit bigger than that."

Adjust.

"Guys really like big boobs."

Adjust.

"Doesn't this darned slider go any higher?"

"Oh well, take *that* Suzie for developing earlier, filling out your cheerleader uniform better than I did, and beating me out to be prom queen all because your boobs were bigger than mine, now I'm bigger than you!"

"Hah! I showed her."

Cue smugness over winning a moral victory.

"Hmmm, now for the waist. Darn, I haven't exercised enough lately. Don't want it to be *too* real."

Adjust.

I promised myself, "When I get done with playing Second Life, I'll go back to exercising more..."

Adjust.

"Doesn't this darned slider go any lower?"

"How about the butt? I have a great butt - or so I've been told. I have that nailed."

Adjust.

"Perfect. Hmmm, you know those chicks that can stick out their butt and stop traffic? That'd be nice. More, god I abhor the word, bootilicious. Why is that word stuck in my head? I have to find a more refined word for it - I'm not trashy. A little more *that word I won't use* couldn't hurt - guys like that, don't they?"

Adjust.

"Maybe a bit more."

Adjust.

"Perfect."

I sit back and I look at my handiwork - a "slightly" idealized version of myself.

"God, I look like some teenage, wet-dream version of Barbie. Okay, the boobs are too big, I have to reduce the boobs. Smaller boobs will make it all better."

Reduce.

"Sheesh, that slider really reduces the boobs a lot for a little move down. Okay, maybe a little bigger."

Adjust.

"Hmm, they still don't look *too* big."

Adjust.

"Doesn't this darned slider go any higher?"

"Okay, maybe a less bimbo shade of blond will fix it. Back to the one like my real life hair."

Rez.

"That's a bit drab. A little lighter won't make me look like a bimbo."

Rez.

"Still a bit too dirty blond. One more shade lighter."

Rez.

"Perfect, now that's better and I don't look too much like a bimbo."

"Hey, isn't that the one I started with?"

The light finally dawned on me because my superconducting blond hair finally brought in a little, rather than draining it all away.

"I *am* a bimbo! No, that can't be right, I'm respectable, I have a corporate job and an office. I am *not* a bimbo."

Visions of being a cheerleader in high school entered my head. Scenes of abasing myself in short skirts and falling all over cute guys abounded. I recalled dumbing down my words so they wouldn't feel intimidated, a fact which always shocks me.

"That's not enough to make me a bimbo, is it?"

Visions of super-short, tight mini-skirts and high heels going to dance clubs to tease men entered my head. What about all the cleavage I show and the big hoop earrings?

"Darn, I am a bimbo."

An inner dialogue ensued where cognitive dissonance debated with my inner critic who decided to make her voice heard. She saw her opening and was attacking with a vengeance.

"But I like to dance, I took ballet for years. The skirts keep me cool in the hot dance clubs, they're *practical*. The heels make my legs look sexy. I can't be a bimbo for liking dancing and wearing 'practical' skirts, can I?" I reasoned like Socrates.

"What about the high heels?" my inner critic observed.

"A *little* sexy isn't enough to make me a bimbo, is it?"

"The big hoop earrings?" came the retort.

"Everyone likes hoops." I gamely try to counter.

"But, that big?"

"Okay, a little trashy, but definitely not a bimbo."

"All the cleavage?" The stare from my inner critic was palpable.

"Okay, okay, but only a little bit bimbo."

Visions of the 2" platform, black patent 6" heeled hooker boots sitting in the back of my closet entered my head. The uses to which I've put them made me blush.

"But they're only for use in the bedroom or on Halloween, you can't be a bimbo for being sexy in the bedroom and for wearing sexy outfits on Halloween, can you?"

My inner critic remained silent. I raced to fill the silence with excuses.

"Look, I was in sports in high school, I was on the math and science teams, I can program a computer, I have geek cred. I was more than just a cheerleader. I can't be a bimbo if I was on the math team, can I? I majored in science in college, I work in IT, I can't be a bimbo." I pleaded, desperation entered my inner voice.

"You drank a lot and slept with a lot of guys in college, you had numerous one night stands," came the accusation.

"That makes me slutty, not a bimbo." The illogic of that statement escaped me at the time, I was grasping for anything at that point.

"One word, 'thongs'." My inner critic snapped.

"No panty lines?" I offered up, whimpering and realizing that I don't own a pair of underwear that covers any portion of my butt. Which made me blush. Then, came the realization that I don't wear underwear under a couple of outfits because even my skimpy underwear is too much. The red deepened.

My inner critic glared at me. I withered under her baleful stare.

"Define bimbo," I cried using the last, desperate refuge of a pedant.

"You." The word gently, quietly echoed from my inner critic.

A few minutes of uncomfortable self-reflection passed, about all my attention span could handle, but I had the answer.

"Okay, I'm going to be the *best* bimbo ever." I resolved.

Day two on Second Life was nearing an end and I finally realized that deep down I was a bimbo. Being comfortable with the fact that I *enjoyed* being that way would take a long time; I still struggle with it and somehow feel its wrong. Thank you Catholic school upbringing and women's lib for making me feel guilty for living my life the way I want. As always, when confronted with the truth and finally made to accept it, I decided to dive completely in and revel in the consequences. A pattern I have repeated many times in my life.

I am still abasing myself in short skirts and falling all over cute guys, but now I won't compromise and dumb down my vocabulary, I have standards.

Cue smugness over winning a moral victory.

Next Post: Chapter 3: If The Nuns From My Catholic Grade School Only Knew

Vint's An Official Flirt Now

Vint Falken did a humorous breakdown of her answers to questions about her SL self when joining the SLFlirt website. Very similar to my post about joining Blogger. Its very amusing and the wry observations about the 'cookie cutter' approach of the website not taking into account SL differences from RL are perfect.

Mistress Strangelove: Chapter 1: A Shopping Addict Is Born

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

I joined Second Life during the great media hype-fest of Autumn 2006. Intrigued by what I read, I signed up for an account, downloaded the client, and logged in for the first time. It was free and all I had to do was provide a credit card number to get L$250 - what a deal! I had lots of cash and was prepared to spend it.

Logging in for the first time, I walked through the basic tutorial but lingered for a long time at the 'customizing your avatar' section. Entranced by the number of options, I proceeded to spend over an hour tweaking my avatar's shape and look - all the while getting more frustrated that I couldn't make it look exactly the way I wanted. I learned a lot about objects, copying, inventory, and finally how to add textures to clothing. One hour into Second Life, I had a blue satin dress and was a budding clothing designer - this place was awesome.

Finally, declaring my look 'good enough', I wandered out into the broader Second Life world and was astonished at the variety of avatars I saw in the first few minutes of standing around with the other newbies. People walked by with flowing hair that actually looked good. Then I saw my first silk. Wow! clothing that moved as you walked. I was itching to find out where to buy these things because I had L$250 and it was burning a hole in my purse. Soon, I too would be dressed to kill, I thought. Anger over the wasted hour of adjusting burned away in my fever to begin shopping. Any notion of sampling the art, culture, and activities of Second Life had to wait until I looked decent, a little shopping and then I could go do 'worthwhile' things.

Discovering search, I began to wander around looking for hair, shoes, and clothes. I reasoned that with L$250 I should be able to get one complete set of everything. The first place I looked was selling hair for L$250 - I was shocked, how could they get away with charging so much money? So, I looked some more and came to the realization that L$250 was chump change. Shopping some more, I found hair and a pair of color change high-heeled shoes that totalled L$250. Now, I was ready to find out how to make money in Second Life. All the news articles I read about Second Life seemed to indicate the streets were paved with gold and the taps were gushing hot and cold running money. In no time I should be raking in piles of cash and be able to shop all I want. Not ready to start my own business yet and believing I needed some seed money, I went to find a job to pave my way to Second Life riches.

"What! you make L$18 per *hour* of dancing?"

"You make *how* much helping others?"

"I won't do that for all the money in Second Life!"

The realization was dawning that you had to be in Second Life for a while to qualify for just about any 'real' job. Even then, they all paid trivial amounts of money. It appeared I would have to work for most of a day just to afford a decent pair of shoes, hair, or set of clothes.

Day one of Second Life ended on a low note for me, but I didn't forget all the fun I had customizing and exploring.

Day two dawned and I was still fascinated by the possibilities of Second Life, but the daunting task of making enough money to really enjoy it was dragging me down. I wandered around despondant until I ended up talking to some people with *real* Second Life experience - they were born over *two months* before me. Then came the moment that forever changed Second Life and my bank account for me...

"You can *buy* Lindens!? I wish they would have told me that before."

"They did, where?"

"Oh, I didn't read that, I was too excited about getting started to read the directions."

Remembering the number I provided to get my first L$250, I realized my credit card was already hooked up as the IV to my Second Life purse. All I had to do was choose "Buy L$..." A brief curse went up to the clever, sneaky bastards at Linden Labs as I had a vision of my future credit card bills laid out before me, but then a rush of crass consumer euphoria swept away all resistance. I voluntarily sacrificed my credit cards to the idol of conspicuous consumption and felt admiration for Linden Lab's well-played business move hooking me into spending money with them. That cleverness deserved a reward I reasoned; I could spend some spare money with them and help them out. I could stop anytime I wanted. Now, I realize the L$250 was exactly analogous to the "first hit is free".

"L$1000 ought to be enough to tide me over until I start making money," I believed. "One or two nice outfits ought to be enough for a few days until I start to make money. With my programming experience and obvious good taste, I should be cranking out products in no time. I can give up Starbucks for tomorrow."

"Okay, one more thousand, Starbucks will have to wait two days."

"Skins cost how much? A decent animation overrider? Fine, *five* thousand more and that's it. That's a lot of money, it ought to be enough. How could I spend that much? I was meaning to give up coffee anyway."

I was hitting the 'pay' button like a crack addicted rat allowed to control its own drug supply.

A few hours later on my second day in Second Life, L$10,000 had flown out of my hands and into the pockets of merchants with pretty clothing, shoes, shapes, skins, hair, animations, and various and sundry things that spoke directly to the shopping addict deep in the core of my soul.

Next Post: Chapter 2: My Inner Bimbo

Mistress Strangelove

I'm about to begin posting my Second Life memoirs. My life, in general, resembles a sitcom, and I thought others would appreciate some of the anecdotes. The story begins on my first day in Second Life.

The title of this series is:

Mistress Strangelove or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love My Kinks

The (Mis)Adventures Of A Reluctant Mistress

Places I Want To See

Natalia has posted a list of places to see in Second Life with descriptions, including Gardens, Real World immitations, Role Playing, and just interesting Things To See.

Fear Of Barbie's Big Boobs

Melissa Yeuxdoux writes about her fear of being labeled a Barbie for being tall, thin, and having large breasts. Although I never had a Barbie with proportions like hers in her recent forays into the realm of massive breasts.

I enjoy being labeled a Barbie both in Real Life and Second Life, here are my reasons why:

All the kids love her

People recall their time with her wistfully and with a smile

Her wide selection of clothes

She's a princess, a veterinarian, an astronaut, a diplomat, and so much more

She has pet cats, dogs, horses, pandas, lions, and zebras

She is about to turn fifty and doesn't look a day over twenty

She has a pilot's license and flys commercial jets

She is into BDSM

Every guy has looked up her skirt at one time or another

People spend lots of money on her

With all that, how could you *not* want to be Barbie?

I'm glad Melissa is enjoying her time with massive breasts and has the guts to do it. Maybe I'll buy a set and we can form a Big Boob Solidarity movement. Perhaps I could sell advertising on the side of them like the Goodyear blimp.

Saint Augustine Quote

"O Lord, help me to be pure, but not yet."
- Saint Augustine

Only In Second Life

Here's an amusing picture and commentary on flickr. Its a bot pretending to be a human chatting with a human pretending to be a bot.