The fascinating thing about Second Life is that it proves that the Matrix is real and Neo’s leather fetish look is fucking boring. I spend my time either as a mechanoid lizard with paisely motifs on his tail or a victorian dandy with a robotic arm and a punky hairdo.
When you can be anything you want, it turns out nobody wants to be a martial arts warrior in stifling leather chaps. Much rather engage in deviant sex with furries and get into fights with gigantic anime warbots that have immense penis’ (penii?).
And therein lies the most simultaneously compelling and unnerving aspect of SL. Everything in-world is about sex. Which makes the virtual world the same as the real world (with a greater chance of being raped by a quadruped in the former). Everywhere I go in SL i find people shagging. Intimately detailed avatars grunting and thrusting to virtual orgasms as their real-world counterparts furiously type out their passions.
Everyone is doing it.
Which made it all the more frustrating that no one would do it with me.
For some reason I have reverted to my lonely awkward teenage self in-world. Despite all the fantastic haircuts, robotic arms and magnificent cocks I purchase, I spend all my time standing next to the proverbial punch bowl while everyone else is rutting like dogs (in some cases literally).
Now while all this is terribly disappointing for me, I am a tad grateful as well. From what I’ve seen, Second Life Sex is basically a step below a bad Sydney Sheldon novel. Lots of men describing their “pulsing manhood” and women talking about their “glistening petals”. Followed by onomatopoeic orgasms. All while their detailed bodies writhe mechanically at awkward angles.
Still, it would be nice to be asked to join in. Just the once.
And now, a gallery of my myriad forms and shapes:
Am I not many types of beautiful?
