Hanging out at the office carrying out my editorial watch mission, I was about to go out and study the impact of the solar star’s sudden appearance on the length of Parisian skirts – some of the total-immersion report only I hold the secret of – when the boss had another idea.
He held out a Visa Gold I didn’t know existed until then, and announced my new mission to me: “Dude, you get yourself a VIP pass for Kink Virtual, and this time you are not leaving until you’ve made good use of your Polish plumber pipe”. Then he draws away humming “Pippo, Pippo, Pippo and his big fat pipo” in his thin reedy voice.
I must confess that the idea of setting off to the Utherverse again doesn’t precisely fill me with enthusiasm. I still feel quite gutted by my missed first experience (I would advise you to read this article, or you might not understand a major part of what is to follow), but life is such that the bitter taste of unfulfillment lingered on my fingertips, and I’m not the halfway kind of bloke. I needed to dive back into this disconcerting world, with the firm ambition to retrace the steps of my failure, and change the end of the game.
A world of surprises
First surprise: I’m not showing up in my former den, but at the Transport Center, the station concourse for wandering souls. I said I would retrace the steps of my preceding trip to Kinkland, so I head for the third stargate on the left, the door leading to Kink Virtual. I’ll come back to the concourse in good time. I find myself in my cosy nest again, with its Persian rugs/dancefloors, its nice clearance, its chains… the music.
I’m in such a good mood, so happy to get back to this place where I feel so at ease, that I don’t disable You give love a bad name, which incites Gonzo, whose office is right behind my back, to command me to plug my headset as fast as possible if I want to be able to continue using my arms to play/write/fap.
Other surprise: the blonde and the redhead that were framing my deadbeat-of-love bed with too many clothes on the last time are now completely naked. Peter Acworth obviously knows how to treat his VIPs right, and I’m more and more impatient to carry on my visit.
Inevitably, I get close to all the objects and the models that have become much friendlier since I climbed the membership social ladder. The Catapult Super Digital Ultra HD 81 camera still is useless… Another unplugged connector, for sure. But the girls, they are “clickable”, even my cute ebony, who took off her jeans and tank-top to remove all obstacles between her soft – I fancy it soft – dark skin and the mahogany wood of the table, upon which she keeps enjoying herself more explicitly.
That’s when the third surprise of my new status hits me: next to the table, the door I was desperately banging on the last time is now opening before me. I click on the thick panel and discover a secret room, dark, still – the “music” is off – and spare, only dedicated to my nasty little games: this room is MY room, the room where I’m going to get it on. That’s my target.
Time to go looking for my conquest. One last thing before I venture into this crazy world again: instead of the alluring and jackboot “UPGRADE TO VIP” message in golden letters, the upper right corner of my screen now holds a miniature version of my avatar, which I discover can be undressed by a simple click on the clothes. I should redesign it in my likeness.
New look for a new life
Customising your avatar is a crucial step in any decent game. The objective is of course to make it look like you – except if you are playing a more Heroic-Fantasy-oriented MMORPG, in which case you’ll make a point of honour to have the most fanciful-looking orc possible.
Such fantasies are also available on Kink Virtual, provided that you’re into furry straying, but since the game crashed when I tried, I took it as a sign, and avoided taking this delirium too far. So I stick to humankind and try and picture myself wearing my IRL outfit of the day, a rather classical sneakers-jeans-polo combo that is easy to reproduce.
You can push clothing customization further by spending Rays (the game’s currency, that is traded for $0.070 to $0.075 a ray) in the numerous shops of this virtual world, but it’s much harder to amend the avatar’s body: if I’m spoilt for choice regarding the shoulder span, that ranges from “micro” to “X-Large”, I will have a hard time reproducing my heart-throb cutie face.
For want of a better alternative, I end up with a small (very 2000) crest hairstyle (I couldn’t possibly choose a plain Mohawk, a white cow-boy hat, or a hairdo coming straight out of “Jersey Shore”), a square KGB-agent head with clenched jaws, and a beard that resembles more Zangief’s than my gorgeous designer stubble.
Other customisations are possible: if you feel like having the mug of John Wayne Gacy dancing the Pogo, you should know it is totally feasible. The tattoos catalogue probably is the best-stocked: from the classic tribal to the Japanese engraving staging a tied up woman lying on her back, including the wolf howling in front of a huge full moon (no kidding), or the Heartagram… A very impressive choice.
Body piercing jewellery is also available, although I deeply regret the absence of a Prince Albert that would have joyfully brightened up my beautiful cock, whose average size cannot be modified, alas. I’ll put up with this unfortunate shortage. It is more than time I strode along the Utherverse maze and finally, finally reach that goal I took up this crazy adventure for in the first place: to fuck at Kink’s.
Alone in the world (shot 2)
My first destination is, of course, the Transport Center. Interesting people yesterday, blighted hope today. Not a living soul, not even a little green one. Is my ordeal replaying itself? The sense that I am living the same arid situations as during my first visit is so strong I’m afraid it might start all over again.
Only difference: the areas I didn’t have access to as a Green are all very accessible today, so I wander from a beach to a boat, and even visit a museum in a recreated Vancouver – relic of a time when the city thought investing long green in virtual worlds was a pioneering idea.
I imagine a hundred avatars joining a virtual private preview, drinking virtual champagne among the works of local artists, in this immense room that currently reminds me more of the bar of the Overlook Hotel than of a hotspot for culture. I grab a beer and execute a few classy dance steps to the Rihanna title playing at that moment, but being alone on the dance-floor, there’s no real feeling to it.
The vastness of this world holds many nice settings where to get laid or just have a look around. At the apex of the virtual environment trend, some guys decided to invest in the fields they thought would shape the future. Brands, or maybe just fans that had their heart set on spending dozens of hours modelling data to recreate those very peculiar places in order to promote their talents or make some doe, which they must have managed, but only during three months
Today, all those places are totally empty and I dawdle in absolute solitude, lead by my random door clicks. I buy nerdy clothes for a few Rays in a thrift shop, then enter a bar with a Texan flag, where I ride a mechanic bull – and I do it naked, because YOLO and hey! Who’s going to judge me?
The best trip remains the Hell Katz, some sort of pseudo-gothic building with dragons and giant magma women by way of decoration. Don’t think I’m on mushrooms while I write this. You might come across some funny mushrooms in the game, but their only effects are gloomier colours and a nagging aura that follows the avatar… The proof of the pudding is here below.
The atmosphere is as Svart-Crownesque as can be, and the accessories suit my mission. Only problem: as all too often, there’s nobody I can use as a partner. What a shitty world! Then I do remember the Palace Sex Pit – the crowded dance-floor, the beds, the masseuses, and the frantic playlist.
For once, I’m not disappointed. A dozen green and yellow people are there, and I spot my latest conquest, the charming bunny with the platinum hair who lost her fur since we last met. I’m not here to play dice; I summon up my best English and fling for the attention of the gathered Kinkers: “Who’s in for some BDSM action at the Kink Lounge? ;)”… I could hardly be more explicit.
x_HEAT_LIPS_x answers me, with a private message, yes please! However, my glee doesn’t last long.
It’s all about the money
For that cute blonde in a baby-doll, despite a muy caliente alias and an appealing semblance, is none other than a courtesan. A hussy, a hooker… A strumpet who accosts me properly: “I am for rays anywhere”. I pull on my fanciest reporter suit, add a little naivety, and ask her: “How come I still need to pay once I’m a VIP member?” x_HEAT_LIPS_x, sensing (or so she thinks) the noob and/or patsy, explains she’s a “working girl”, as pointed out by a small red badge above her head.
Her rate: 40 rays for 20 minutes. If I want her to come to my kinky den, I’ll have to pay a little bonus; she doesn’t precise me how much, in spite of my repeated demands. She soon realizes I’m not ready to throw away my cash that easily, and walks away to find herself another prey, one that is less thrifty, and won’t hum and ha about lying down on her right on the Palace’s beds. I suddenly see a lot of “working girl” red badges I hitherto didn’t pay attention to.
This wasn’t the only disillusion brought by my VIP status: my privileged circumstances open many doors, but they don’t open them all. In plain language, some particularly enchanting settings, such as the private jet, the prison, or the classroom, are only accessible for a limited time, and for a fee of 5 to 10 rays. In absolute terms, why not? But if those places are as deserted as the rest of the Utherverse, I’d rather click on the button I was keeping for desert: “Explore”.
The new explorer
The Explore button means I won’t get lost in this endless labyrinth anymore, i.e. stop spinning out this article and get straight to the point. When you click on the button, you gain access not only to all the events taking place in the Utherverse, but most importantly to a real directory of all the available rooms, sorted by theme. I quite naturally shift my mouse onto “Adult”.
The main benefit of this feature is it also provides the number of people attending each room, and that’s how I spot 26 people having a ball at the Dirty Deeds Playhouse. It’s more than time for me to worm my way in, make the most of the atmosphere to pick up a babe, surpat style.
As always, I make my request with the least pressure possible: “Who’s up for a bit of fun in the Kink Dungeon? ;)”. Once again, a “working girl” answers me: she will be mine for 100 rays. I don’t bargain, because I know all the whores are misses. When I tell her I had rather in mind to spend a nice moment for free, she kindly explains to me that I might not be in the right place for that, since the Playhouse is mostly patronized by couples and professionals, and not by regular people willing to slum in with a stranger. She suggests I have a look at the Passions club, but each time I do, the club is desperately empty.
I imagined I was going to wind up in the ultimate den of virtual sex, and relish a libertinism without inhibition via computer, but it seems the basic Red Light Center gamer is more into community/family/forum than into massive orgy – too bad.
I thought maybe there was a time zone issue. But even when I logged on at NBA streaming hours to compensate the interval with the US, I found the same numb atmosphere. Even in the clubs explicitly dedicated to BDSM, exchanges between “masters” and “slaves” remained only verbal. Chatting can be charming, but it’s not more interesting if you paid for it.
Nevertheless I keep on trying, undeterred. I spend no less than four hours in the Torture Garden chatting and trying to convince one or the other to share some Kinky luv with me, and I start to resign myself: if I want to get intimate with one of these avatars, I’m gonna need a whole month subscription, something enough to ruin any porn-culture devoted editorial board.
Choosing the easy way
Honestly, the hours and hours I spent striding across this virtual world wore me out. So once again, primarily to put an end to this already too long paper, I choose the easy way: the bots, ladies who are already naked, motionless, quiet, so very boring, but open to all practices.
Whatever support you choose – bed, ropes, Saint-Andrew’s cross, bondage futon – the possibilities are numerous but slightly repetitive: front, rear, dildo, cane, whip, three degrees of force to flagellate the feet, the buttocks, or the stomach, with a few sound effects for more authenticity.
In the end, the good old-fashioned bed proves to be the most amusing: we go through the whole process, from the simple flirt to the strap-on action, including the inevitable oral jobs – rimming included – or the very academic missionary and doggy-style; you can also use all sorts of fucking machines, the spearheads of a whole section in the Kink company.
Once I’m sated/bored (the second option being the most accurate, I’m afraid), a button pops up bringing the evident conclusion to this whole leisure moment: CUM. At Kink’s, coitus is done without rubber, and no cream-pie either: a few grunts come with the fateful semen discharge, which ends up at worst into the void, at best on a morsel of pixel-skin (but never on the face). In every instance, my partner kept silent, staring at the ceiling, which brought up painful memories of teenage late afternoons – but that’s a different story.
In theory, this Kink Virtual stuff – and more broadly the whole Red Light Center concept – is a very, very good idea. However, in my opinion, several elements tend to erase the fun and let-it-all-go aspect of a sex-based game: the partners, to start with, are too few. And when you finally put your hands on one, they get so worked up fully embodying their master/slave/woooo-screaming-party-animal persona they forget to cut loose and get carnal.
I’d really have enjoyed meeting someone fun, discovering the numerous rooms with her, and experimenting with the crazy accessories they are full off – for want of people. Le Tag provided me with all the means necessary, but you see, I’m not yet ready to force people into having sex with me, or my avatar. If you are reading this, and my adventure inspired you, please pop over at the King Lounge! I’m Pippo_LeTag.
Originally translated from this post by Ms Alice