Chapter 27 Slippery Slopes

For once, let me take up where I left off, even though (I know: sue me) it's been over a week since I last posted. I was talking about Ellen using the virtual world to meet real life lovers. As I've said, I discouraged that. I posted pictures reluctantly and only because I thought I had to if I was going to have any clients on SL. I did no voice and no cam. I was willing to talk about my interests, but not my private real life. That to me was like exposing the wizard behind the curtain. Yes, it was all an illusion, but excuse me, where the hell do you think we were?

Even my two best clients wanted to meet the "real" me.
The fact that they stayed with me, gave me tons of money, and found it hard to accept my retirement should suggest that I pleased them, that virtual sex filled a need for them, but at the same time, the more I pleased them, the more they pushed for the real. More more more. One of them, O'Hara, offered me a thousand real dollars to meet him for one night in New York. I'm sure, if I'd seriously considered it, I could have gotten even more out of him. Our relationship, what really turned both of us on, was essentially that: a power struggle over sex and money. He wanted me to beg and perform for money, like a trained pet. He also wanted me to refuse to give him favors until I received money. We were both good at that game. We both enjoyed it. We both got off on it. And yet, he kept pushing me for more pictures and to meet him in real life, and I kept pushing for more intricate and sophisticated SL scenarios. More reality, he said. More fantasy, she said. At one point, he said he would be satisfied once and for all if I would just do voice with him one time and say one thing: "Fuck me."

I wonder what I could have gotten for that. Maybe we talked about it. I wasn't above leading him on in that way. I don't remember for sure, but probably the conversation went like this: "How much would you give me to do that?" "How much do you want?" "Never mind. I'm not going to." "How much?" "A hundred dollars." "Fifty." "No." "Would you really do it for a hundred?" "No." "I have an erection." "Congratulations." "Are you wet?" "Wouldn't you like to know." "Tell me." "Why should I?" And then he'd give me 500 or a thousand lindens. He never announced that he was giving me money, but he always did it at just the right time. I'd hear that ching noise and see the little drop down box at the upper right, sometimes when I least expected it, sometimes in response to a deliberate ploy. I do miss it, I admit.

I also admit I was playing with the real, but so what, if it made him happy. I wasn't idle, though, in my quest for more fantasy. O'Hara didn't like the virtual visuals. On most of our dates we were not virtually in the same place.* We just talked, which he preferred, but not long before I left SL, he'd promised to humor me, and even try to be enthusiastic, about my fantasies. I had grand plans. I wanted to find another man who would make a good third in a menage a trois. Someone who would match and complement O'Hara. I hoped in that way to distract him from his real life designs and perhaps even convince him that fantasy, if pursued with intelligence and imagination, could be pretty darn real.

*Which enabled me, by the way, to occasionally do another client while I was doing him. But I didn't do that often. O'Hara really got me going, and it wasn't nearly as much fun when I was multi-tasking. He deserved, and usually got, my full attention.