Yearn, p.21
Yearn, page 21
Tonight I have decided to exceed myself—I’m out to impress, I’m out to be queen, I’m out to be worshipped. Maybe it was that thin blonde and her smug air of entitlement, maybe it was because it was Saturday, but I am restless; I need a hit of major adoration. I have enhanced Tasinis’s body—she now has a triple-D, forty-four-inch bust, two new silver nipple piercings, and another through her labia. I’ve also narrowed her waist by three inches, which felt real good, felt like I was giving the finger to that blonde in the Mercedes. Then we visited the hairdresser’s at Cybermop Salon, Voyager Road, Freedom Island. I instructed Claude, Tasinis’s favorite hairdresser, to design her a sixties beehive with a twenty-first-century wildness. I’ve dressed her in a Gucci leather-paneled corset with La Perla stockings and suspenders (both purchased from Haute Couture Paris, Second Life store). I then squeezed her into a skin-tight silver pencil skirt and matching stilettos—with six-inch heels. She looks great, kind of like the ultimate wild-child Barbie doll, and she is totally my creation. Three clicks of the mouse later and she’s poised outside the orgy pit of Pleasure Dome 3, Venus, awaiting my instructions. I finish the cheeseburger, stuff a handful of fries into my mouth, and, trembling with anticipation, walk my baby in.
• • •
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 height. I paid her entry fee and walked her into the bar.
• • •
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.
“Just over a week, I guess. I thought it would be different,” Starboy 8 says. Tasinis nearly drops her glass in surprise. Starboy 8 has a voice and it’s nice: a smooth tenor, really friendly. There’s even some emotion in it.
“Different how?”
“I guess I thought you wouldn’t be judged like you are in real life. I thought people could be more honest standing behind an avatar.”
“But they are.”
“No, they’re not. People are judged in here just like in reality. On their appearance. I mean, look at you.” Starboy 8 points to my avatar’s body.
Just then a cute male avatar that looks like a pumped Johnny Depp approaches the booth and asks for Tasinis’s autograph. She’s just about to sign for him when Starboy 8 tells him to get lost. The really weird thing is I find myself excited by his possessiveness, but I couldn’t tell you what Tasinis was feeling at that point. I think it was about then that me and my alter ego started peeling off from each other, like an ovum dividing in the womb, pink, unformed, blind in intent.
“What about me? Don’t you find me attractive?” Tasinis cocks her head, then flicks her hair over her shoulder (seductive gesture command 10).
“You look like a sex doll. There is nothing real about you.”
“No one in Second Life wants reality; we’re all escaping reality. In reality I’m invisible.”
“So you make yourself super-visible in Second Life?”
“Something like that.” I make Tasinis sip her champagne in a demure fashion. It looks a little awkward, like a stripper trying to look coy. But it’s a difficult moment. I want to tell Starboy 8 more but Tasinis is holding me back.
The conversation is not going the way I need, and yet I can’t unhook myself. It’s like Tasinis has started to want to prove herself to Starboy 8. She turns away from him, her long blond hair falling down her face. I have to stop myself from hitting the command that would make two large glistening tears roll across those high cheekbones.
“Sorry, I’ve upset you,” Starboy 8 says.
Tasinis doesn’t reply.
“Guess I should buy myself a penis. I mean, how long do you think I’ll survive in Second Life dickless?” Starboy 8 continues.
In real life I laugh out loud, then I make Tasinis turn and smile back at him.
“If you stay a voyeur you’ll be okay.”
Starboy 8 returns her smile. His hand lifts and slides across the marble tabletop, his fingers touching Tasinis’s own.
“Do you have someone on the outside?”
I stiffened. I’d been so long in the adult areas that I couldn’t remember the last time an avatar had asked Tasinis anything personal.
“No one. You?”
“I had someone but she died recently. Guess I’m in here escaping reality too.”
“I know what that’s like. To lose someone and be alone.”
“Do you think we’re running?” Starboy 8 asks softly, his hands creeping over Tasinis’s fingers—they look absurd, they are so much smaller than hers, but I let him touch her.
“Sure, we’re all running, aren’t we?” she growls back, a little less confident than usual. “Running from our shit real lives, real jobs, and real bodies. But here I’m totally free, totally visible. I revel in being seen.”
“But who is living which life?”
I stare at the screen; I’d been inside Tasinis so long I’d never thought about it like that. To me I had been living. Suddenly I become aware of my body, my human body: my back aches from sitting down so long, there’s a pounding in my temples, and I feel a little nauseous from the burger. Outside it’s night already and I know I should be sleeping. More than anything I want Tasinis to leave and fly back to the safety and anonymity of the adult areas. I’m scared; it’s as simple as that. Inworld has started to blur with outworld.
I make Tasinis stand up and walk away without casting a backward glance. I can even hear the swish of her dress against her thighs.
“I want to see you again!” Starboy 8 shouts out on the messenger board, “Tahiti! Tomorrow—eight o’clock!”
“I’m making no promises,” Tasinis mutters darkly, then walks through the bar door.
The next morning I woke up feeling a little different, like there was a thread of excitement weaving away inside me. Like something had started to unravel. For a minute I lay there wondering if there hadn’t been an earthquake in the middle of the night that I had only been unconsciously aware of, and some part of me was still on red alert.
I climbed out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. After showering I pulled open a drawer that still held all my mother’s makeup. I couldn’t remember the last time I wore makeup—I’m guessing years. My hand hovered for a moment above all those shiny tubes and jars, all those magic tricks Mom used to keep her beautiful. Finally I selected a lipstick: coral pink. With the towel still wrapped around my body, I stood in front of the mirror. I took a big breath and carefully applied the lipstick, then loosened my damp hair and let it fall around my face. And you know what? I looked kind of okay.
• • •
For the first time in twelve years I found it difficult to concentrate at work. That day was hard, I’m telling you. Like, I’m sitting there and I can feel the air-conditioning blowing across my skin; I can hear the chatter of the other operators rising and falling like waves over the partitions, distracting me. Making me angry for no reason. I was not myself. Like, when I took my usual morning coffee break I picked up an apple and not a doughnut from the stand. I keep thinking about Starboy 8 and the date. How Tasinis had made no promises, how if I/we did meet him it was bound to get personal, and personal was what I’d been escaping all these years. And I started to think about Mom and how I was always such a disappointment to her, how I was never thin enough, never beautiful enough, and how she made me feel that afternoon screaming at me in the bathroom, calling me a sinner, and how I’d never been able to touch myself since. And all of the memories, those old fears and bad images, lifted up inside me like a tornado, only I was the tornado and the outside world was spinning around me and I thought I was going to throw up. So I stayed frozen to my desk, taking deep breaths in, calming myself down before anyone noticed. Five minutes later I’d made up my mind.
Cass didn’t do personal; therefore neither did Tasinis. We were both terrified. I couldn’t do it; I couldn’t afford to let anyone in, in this life or the Second. I had good reason: a Pandora’s box of nightmares.
That evening I sent my baby in full leather gear straight to Gothic Dungeon Sex Island. It was like I needed to get violent, to get lost in the frenzy. I needed to shake off my real-life skin and get as impersonal as possible. At least I thought I did.
• • •
Gothic Dungeon Sex Island: 20.00 7/02/2009
As Tasinis strides into the circular arena, sawdust swishing around her eight-inch spiked heels, a steel-cage visor tugged down over her eyes, hair pulled back severely into a waist-length ponytail, she cracks her whip.
“Okay, scum, time to feel the anger of my whip!” It isn’t my best dominatrix command but it works anyhow: immediately three male avatars in neck cuffs and leather hand bindings begin groveling at Tasinis’s feet.
“Line up, dogs!” Tasinis orders.
The three crawl into position. Naked on all fours, cocks, balls, feathers, and tails all hanging down.
“Yes. Yes. Harder. Harder,” one of them, a muscular redhead with tattoos who for some inexplicable reason has a black penis, screams.
“Ohh! I’m coming. You bitch goddess of the lash,” the avatar at the end, a shaved humanoid head with a small dog’s tail poking out from between his buttocks, moans, the tip of his modified cock flashing red. This is a sign that normally would have had her/me excited by now, but Tasinis feels nothing. I feel nothing. For the first time the room looks kind of tawdry. The ropes and metal harnessing hanging off the old stone walls appear fake, and I suddenly notice the way the simulation dissolves into obvious pixels at the edges. The jerky fashion in which the avatars wriggle their hips and legs, making them look like wooden puppets, and the way their genitals bob up and down, orifices mechanically opening and closing, is kind of weird. The usual rush of excitement I feel when Tasinis’s whip touches avatar skin is gone. Totally. I can’t lose myself in Second Life. For the first time I can’t lose Cassandra.
I look at the time displayed in the right-hand corner of my desktop: it’s already ten past eight. Starboy 8 will be waiting in Tahiti. Suddenly I’m terrified I’ve left it all too late. In seconds I pull Tasinis out of the dungeon and send her straight to Tahiti, a fantasy island set in the 1800s.
• • •
Tahiti, Fantasy Island: 20.15 7/02/2009
I find Starboy 8 dressed as a shipwrecked French sailor sitting among a group of native Polynesians watching a ceremony. I haven’t had time to re-dress Tasinis and she looks ridiculous standing in full leather gear at the edge of a jungle clearing surrounded by native women and men wearing grass skirts. Starboy 8 doesn’t seem to care; he looks across and immediately leaps up and leads her by the hand into the jungle. She/I walk through the trailing vines, the chattering monkeys, and the brightly colored parrots that suddenly burst out of the foliage and fly across our path. Finally the two avatars arrive at a waterfall with a grassy outcrop hanging over the rushing water beneath. Starboy 8 and Tasinis sit on the grass.
