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Pleasure Dome 3, Venus: 18.10 7/01/09
The area is a large silver dome with swings, ropes, and racks hanging from the ceiling. The walls are hung with cascades of shimmering circular mirrors, melodious music plays, and there is an indoor spa and a swimming pool set into the floor at one end. Naked avatars, male, female, and hermaphrodite, frolic in the water; in the corners writhe pink knots of a slowly revolving orgy; others are just displaying their glistening bodies.
In the center of the dome a young female avatar, totally naked except for a belly button stud and a ring through her clit, lies upside down tied and splayed on a rack that is slowly rotating. I peer closer, marveling at the realism of the programming that has her hair cascading in the right direction as the wheel turns. Below her, on the ground, one male avatar is fucking another male avatar while another avatar takes him from behind—the third avatar’s a female with her hermaphrodite function turned on so that a penis has sprouted above her vagina. All three have eyelids fluttering in simulated pleasure and mouths with thick plumped lips that open and shut in a mimicry of orgasm.
Some of them look like they have their audio packs on. I reach for my mouse and push the volume up on the computer. Immediately my bedroom fills with the sound of human moaning and groaning. Worried about my neighbor, I get up to shut my window and return to the desk. By the time I look back at the screen the orgy has progressed.
A female avatar stops the rotating rack with the girl strapped on and goes down on her, while she herself is being propositioned by an avatar I recognize. His name’s Horny-Corn and he’s half-human, half-horse, with an extra penis sprouting from his forehead like the horn on a unicorn. A sex addict, I’ve never seen him anywhere inworld except for the adult realms, and although Tasinis has had sex with him, I’ve never warmed to his crude overtures. Now he trots up beside the female avatar that’s going down on the one strapped to the rack and, lowering his head, directs his forehead penis between her buttocks.
“What do you want?” she asks, her voice sounding like a robotic Minnie Mouse.
“I want to take you in the ass, hot bitch,” Horny-Corn replies, then neighs enthusiastically—not the most sexy sound.
“Okay, but go slow,” she replies, a command he ignores altogether as his avatar finally manages to enter her avatar, whose buttocks immediately begin to vibrate and shake violently. X3 ass model nine, I note to myself—four hundred Lindens with guaranteed realistic action.
I touch the commands and Tasinis goes flying through the air and lands on Horny-Corn’s back. Lifting her silver whip, she begins flailing him lightly on the flanks as he pumps the female avatar with his cock-horn. I can’t say it’s particularly erotic but it’s fun—the whole orgy room is beginning to look like some totally weird circus act.
Just then another avatar, a young blond male with an erection emblazoned with multiple piercings, descends from the rafters, hanging upside down on a swing. He hovers over Tasinis, then, freeing his arms and hands while still hanging from the swing, he begins to massage her breasts, while she continues riding Horny-Corn and whipping him. I activate Tasinis’s interactive thighs and she starts bouncing vigorously up and down on the creature’s back.
I peer closer at the screen. I’m telling you I’m in that room, in her skin. It’s like I could smell the skin, the fur, the sweat, and the sex. I/we are watching, and both Tasinis and I are the emcee, the conductor orchestrating the orgy. Now every time Tasinis brings down her whip, Horny-Corn penetrates the female avatar. The flat, innocuous smiles on all of the avatars’ faces give the orgy a strange, childlike, joyous glee—naughty, not dirty. That’s what I like about cybersex—it is fantasy, pure fantasy. Anonymous, safe, and yet subversive.
Just then I notice Tasinis’s name on the instant messenger board. I have been concentrating so hard I haven’t noticed that Starboy 8 has entered the room and is standing by the entrance, leaning awkwardly against a rack of sex toys and handcuffs as if he has nothing better to do. He still lacks genitals, nipples, and voice. It’s like suddenly he is a lot more naked than the other avatars with all their fancy dangly parts and boobs. I can’t help liking him for it. It’s like he doesn’t give a damn. A blue pose ball appears beside him as if prompting him to participate in the orgy. He pushes it away with an aggressive punch. Several of the avatars look up from their cybersex disapprovingly.
“Tasinis, aren’t you bored with all this robotic pumping yet?” Starboy 8’s words appear on the instant messenger board, as archaic as ancient hieroglyphs to us seasoned Second Lifers. Tasinis ignores him while I try and work out how I’m going to answer him.
“Get lost, buster, can’t you see she’s busy?” yells Swingerjoy, the blond avatar hanging upside down massaging Tasinis’s breasts. His long hair waves in the cyber wind.
“Yeah, get in or get out!” Sexkittenblue shouts.
“I’m talking to Tasinis. Do you want a date?” Starboy 8 persists—the typed letters seem amateurish and juvenile compared to the electronic voices of all the other avatars.
“A date? What is this, nineteen eighty-five?” Horny-Corn mutters from under Tasinis.
A date? Why was this guy interested in Tasinis, an avatar obviously designed for everything but dating? What does he think? That she’s relationship material? But I’m telling you, something about the guy not caring what the other Second Lifers think of him gets to me. That takes courage; that takes individuality. It’s like he’s happy being himself; he hasn’t invested anything in proving himself to the other avatars, in looking attractive.
I make Tasinis climb down from Horny-Corn’s furry back. “Where?” I find myself making Tasinis whisper. My avatar seems to stare out from the screen at me, her huge blue eyes wide with surprise. Then again, I might be imagining it.
“Sam’s Tropical Bar, Hideaway Island. In five?” Starboy 8 replies.
“See you there, big boy,” Tasinis finally growls back, now in her more familiar and reassuring mode of seductress.
“Big boy? He ain’t even got a dick!” Horny-Corn shouts, but we are already gone.
Sam’s Tropical Bar on Hideaway Island was the kind of place I imagined wealthy celebrities might go for secret liaisons in real life. It was an exclusive bar that was at least forty Lindens per avatar to enter, on a fantasy island that resembled Dr. No’s luxury hideaway in the James Bond film. I spent ten minutes redesigning Tasinis in more demure clothing that was appropriate for the occasion—a Donna Karan dress I’d seen Scarlett Johansson wear to the Oscars a couple of years back. I have to say my girl looked great—although the triple-D breasts and hips were a little of a giveaway. I put her in flats so she was at least kind of average h
eight. I paid her entry fee and walked her into the bar.
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Sam’s Tropical Bar on Hideaway Island: 18.30 7/01/2009
There’s a ripple among the people sitting around the bar: heads turn; eyes look up, stare, then turn away. I feel that small ripple of pleasure (the nearest thing I’d ever experienced to an orgasm) that Tasinis has been recognized.
Starboy 8 is sitting in a red leather booth at the back of the bar, in the shadows. He stands as Tasinis sits down. Then he orders champagne, good French vintage champagne. I like that. It shows real class. With his clothes on and his hair swept back, he looks a lot cuter, and it doesn’t seem to matter that under the clothes he is minus a penis and other vital accessories. He smiles a kind of pensive smile that is remarkably humanlike.
“So how long have you been on Second Life?” Tasinis asks, sipping her champagne with cool detachment.
