Wednesday, 6 January 2010

Call me Pandora

I think I may have opened my big, bratty mouth one time too many...
Let me explain.

As if my 10+ hours a day World of Warcraft addiction wasn't enough, I've recently joined yet another online chatting facility that I'll probably not use beyond a week or two. IMVU. It's like MSN messenger, but your conversation is acted out by a kinky avatar, complete with tantalising and provocative poses. Very few kinky animations, but plenty of Kodak moments for sure.

Like most cases of interaction with the wider section of the online society, you have to take the good with the bad. After the first few messages of "Wow, ur hot! Want 2 cyber?" I quickly changed my availability to 'Over 18's Only'. Of course that didn't protect me any better; Somehow I'd foolishly associated age with maturity, but it wasn't too long before I received similar conversations from the 'adult community'.

Spare me.

I'm still optimistic about meeting people who can be *some* intellectual stimulus on that program. If there aren't any, at least I can still have fun playing dress-up with my avatar in Gorean slave silks ;)

My experiences haven't been *all* bad, I have to concede. I've been able to chat about books, met some more WoW geeks (most of whom *still* have to poke the female gamer to check she's not a figment of their imaginations), and last night I was given a very interesting proposition:

I got chatting to a Dom online about our kinks, and our mutual hatred of some of the 'Doms' we've met on IMVU (who greet strangers with a cheery "U in2 submission?" you reply "Well, yes..." and then they follow up with the time-honoured chat up line: "Suck my cock.") We got talking about an online arrangement of 'lessons in submission' which would be created around Lex, this guy and myself. I sent Lex the chat log, curious to see his reaction to the prospect...

His response was to be expected, I suppose. Bless his little territorial socks, he went through the chat log taking note of uncapitalised sentences, unnecessary abbreviations, and areas where he thought the guy "wasn't dominating" and "was just agreeing with me". I love Lex to bits, and with hindsight, it was *rather* silly of me to propose the idea of someone muscling in on his woman ;o) But aside from the *very* effeminate 'The-mouth-says-yes-but-the-glare-says-no-way-in-Hell" response, it was the delayed reaction of his that gave me the impression of having just opened my very own Pandora's Box.

"Perhaps you and I need to have a little chat about our D/s..."

Somewhere far away, a lone rider gallops at full pelt.

"It is going to take more input from you though."
"You top from the bottom too bloody often, Missus."
"It's a two-way street y'know."

Gripping a flaming torch, the rider throws himself off his horse and lights a distress beacon.

"I think a schedule is just what you need..." He said, the tone in his voice implying that he was *almost* but not quite joking.
"Calling me "Sir" when no-one else is around, always greeting me in a particular way, being told how to dress, offering yourself the moment we're in private..."

The warning signal is recognised by nearby watchers, who in turn, light their own beacons.

"Master's arriving home, greet him nude..."
"His cock is hard, offer to pleasure it or stimulate yourself for his enjoyment..."

"You're grubby, offer to shower and dress up..."
"Spend half an hour entranced repeating your slave mantra..."
"You have uni work due in a week, tell me the true extent of what you've done so far and how you're organising your time..."

The message has been circulated to the furthest reaches. The mountain beacons shine into the distance. All shall hear of the distant call for aid.

"And proper bedtimes."
"Maybe I'll make your pizza allowance dependant on whether I feel you've done enough uni work this week..."

My jaw dropped, releasing a silent scream, the horror transfixed on my features. Where the hell was that back up!?

"I could have your authenticator on my keyring. ;) "

He had gone too far. That didn't seem to deter him though...

"We'll get you a nice lil collar for your keyring where your authenticator used to be..."
"And every time you reach for it, you can be reminded that I control you, your mind, your pussy... and your access to Azeroth."

- For the non-gamers amongst our readership, my authenticator's a keyring-sized device that generates a random security number each time I log in. Its use is required in order for me to log in... So no authenticator, no WoW. -

Slowly, my world was crumbling around me. But by God, why was I getting so turned on!?

Surely dear reader, you can sympathise with my predicament. A chance conversation has now landed me in the hands of this tyrant and his revenge plotting. I didn't just walk into this trap, I charged in at full pelt, completely oblivious to the fact I'd now landed in the Fade.

And after it all, I had only my deliciously naughty thoughts, and a single sentence echoing in my mind.
"Be careful what you wish for."

Well, I suppose it'll make some interesting blogging, at least. You see what I go through for your enjoyment, readers!?

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

A Belated Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to all those on the Blogosphere!

Lex posted one of his drawings a in the last post, and I've been saying for a while that I'd consider posting something of mine. However, stubbornness and an 'Oh, I'll get around to it attitude' (that at the moment is plaguing my University life!) has made me only get around to doing something about it now.

So here's something I scribbled down today, I had no real idea what I wanted to draw beforehand, but it turned out this way. Boy, would Freud have a field day!

So Happy New Year, guys. Thanks for reading, and bearing with us since lately we're *incredibly* slow at blogging. Hrm... Perhaps that should be my New Year's Resolution? To blog more?