I was reading the Atlantic Monthly…. I know, this isn’t how most slave stories begin, but it is true. They were talking about online social experiments that failed because they tried to imitate the real world and, apparently, online isn’t offline.
“[Second Life]’s not abandoned; it’s simply waiting.”
An abandoned world just waiting for me to explore! Wonderful! So I logged in, set up my “college girl” avatar and started exploring.
I was immediately drawn to the adult sections. In the first hour or so I found free shops with adult oriented clothing, got a tattoo when I put on a kimono, flew around... and found myself in the Bondage Ranch and found that Second Life is not abandoned.
I met a man by a fire. He was… intriguing. Strong. Quiet. Compassionate. Well spoken. He warned me about the world I was exploring. He warned me about the people. He warned me about my own desires, without knowing that he was doing so (or maybe he did).
My repressed submissive personality took over. I sat before him and apologized that I could not kneel. He gave me an animation file, and I was able to “naduw” before him; kneel with my knees spread, giving access if he desired. I know, it sounds weird, but it was so natural I hardly thought of it. Or, really, I felt so normal that sitting, legs spread, before a stranger (even in a VR world) just felt... "right."
He took me shopping for a skin and maybe new hair. Just to let me know that there was more to experience than the free avatars. And we talked, and I was drawn further to him. But soon I left him and explored more on my own.
And I met someone else. She was “a girl with a cock.” She was demanding, but not commanding. She wanted someone, but it didn’t seem to matter who, and I ended up being that person. It was still play acting for me. 3D puppets. It’s “Second Life” I can leave anytime.
And then she collared me.
I felt it in my soul. Second Life is virtual, but it is still real. As my avatar fell to her knees at my Mistress’s control I knew I had done something very wrong. I know, I could have just logged out. I have other email addresses, I could have created a brand new account and started over.
But I was collared. And I was a slave.
Fortunately I wasn’t what she was looking for. Fortunately she took pity on a girl born to the world of Second Life just that day. Fortunately, she let me go.
And without knowing how or why, I found myself back with Him. Kneeling before him. Asking… no begging, to be his slave. Knowing this time what I was doing. Knowing that there is only one life, and that “me” in a simulator is still “me” and that the connections and promises I make affect me no matter where I am.
He asked me more than once. He asked me in different ways. He wanted to be sure I knew that this wasn’t just Second Life. This is Life. And I was sure.
This entire person was inside me. This beautiful slave who wants to please her Master. She knew what it was to be a Slave. Until the collar was locked around my neck, I called him Sir. Then… he was Master.
The feeling of being collared… oh…. I can’t entirely explain it. It’s like the floor falls away and you’re in freefall, but like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, a safe freefall. I felt myself get wet. I felt my breathing change. I was excited. But… I was at peace.
And that part of me that I kept hidden away for so many years, that sweet, pleasing salve girl that I could never be in the real world, that girl who always asks her Master’s permission before even asking a question… dominated me.
I am her. I am collared on 6/5/15 by Durn Trilling and willingly accept and serve him as my Master. He owns, mentors, shapes, and protects me as I learn this new life.
His challenges reach into the physical world outside of Second Life. The day without panties was…. erotic. The wedging was unbearably stimulating…. When he asks me what I am, I answer simply.
“Yours.”
Because I am. Willingly. Happily. Unconditionally.
His.
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