For several days, I roamed the virtual world, visiting BDSM clubs, in search of intense, extreme experiences to rouse me from the ennui that gripped my soul. At first, in my numbed state, it felt less like an adventure and more like research. Before I could have those experiences, I had to attract a dominant’s attention, and it wasn’t entirely the same as “vanilla” cruising. I made notes about how to get noticed, and learned the expectations of the dominants I met, so that I could be prepared to fulfill them. I outfitted my submissive’s tool kit: collars, handcuffs, gags, silks, latex, leather and sexy outfits; anything a prospective dominant might desire. I went to classes about D/s and joined several groups, mainly to listen and learn. Soon I knew which clubs to frequent, what to wear, where to stand, how to get noticed. I re-wrote my profile to present myself in the most appealing way. I became adept at attracting the attention of dominants, and had many interesting and strange encounters.
For three days, I became the property of an older, established Dom whose elaborate rules, rituals and protocols taxed my patience. After that didn’t work out, I was captured by a 19 year old Turk who, apparently, was letting his 13 year old brother watch the computer monitor over his shoulder; I ended that one quickly. Then I met a European fellow who was only in SL to make initial contact and really only wanted to talk on Skype. Next was a man who wanted me as a house-slave to assist with his business, followed by a couple who wanted to share me; it took me less than an hour to decide against each. A brand new dominant was a lovely friend, but didn’t have enough experience to meet my needs, nor I his. There was an intriguing man with ice-white eyes who was into fantasy role-playing; unfortunately, that meant long, painstakingly composed descriptions of his every action and thought that were exquisitely crafted but took ages for him to produce. He brought me to his house for sex, but after two hours, he’d only managed to write us through a single kiss. After he spent another 45 minutes writing a description of removing his shirt, any arousal I might have felt had totally evaporated, and I’d nearly dozed off waiting for his next lines. Knowing there was no way to build a relationship there, I excused myself.
It was rather common to find dominants projecting a certain image that ultimately bore little resemblance to their actual personality. Everyone seemed to be a stereotypical Goth in black leather, heavy boots and spiked wristbands, with a scary name and dangerous-sounding profile. One such dominant turned out to be a cream puff who mostly liked tickling. Another severe-looking hyper-masculine Goth collared me for a couple of days, until I discovered that he was actually female. One exceptionally dark and dangerous dominant gave me chills… until he opened his mouth and started talking, bursting the bubble with a notable lack of sophistication, intelligence and ability to spell.
With each encounter, satisfying or not, I learned more about myself and what I wanted and needed (and what I didn’t want or need). Thus I was alert when, three weeks into my search, I met a young man who expressed an intense desire to possess and control me. As we explored one another, sharing our hopes and failures, to my surprise I felt life stirring in my empty heart. There was no sex between us; just possession, and complete control. His intensity reawakened my passion and tuned it to a fever pitch. I gladly surrendered myself to his control for one glorious week, before the differences in our needs became painfully apparent. He was “just passing through” to make initial contacts, uninterested in Second Life for its own sake, preferring only phone and webcam contact. His disinterest in the possibilities of the virtual world disappointed me, and ultimately his insistence on real world involvement caused our relationship to unravel. But inspite of that, he gave me a great gift. He breathed new life into my feelings, and helped me remember how it felt to be consumed with desire.
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the space between 