Dominion in Red: A Journey Through Second Life’s Hooker Hotel
February 10, 2024
In the vast, salacious, and risqué virtual world of Second Life, I carved my niche. I set down roots in the licentious and notorious district fondly referred to as Street Whores, adding agency to my dominatrix role with a generous side of financial servitude. My dominance is absolute, my control irrefutable, and my expectations omniscient. Welcome to my world.
One evening, a beacon of temptation drew me towards the Hooker Hotel, a age old sim in our deliciously debauched little world.
As the heavy, virtual doors of the hotel swivelled open, a sow of a man leaned against the entrance, eyeing me up. Clad in a pitiful suit, his eyes wandered from my sculpted visage down to my nylon-clad legs. His gaze lingered covetously, the desire to kneel apparent. However, the error in his approach was blatantly clear. He’d neglected to pay his due tribute before addressing me.
Without a gold token of his submission, he was nothing more than an irrelevant chancer. He was foolish and rash, thinking he could bypass the norms that residents of this world had carved with blood, sweat, and money. “Who do you think you are to lay your eyes on me?” I thought with a smirk, not dignifying his presence with a response.
Understanding his grievous mistake, he hastily recurrent. Clicks tactfully echoing, the sow rushed forward, transferring a significant amount of his wealth to me. It was a sweet tribute, a token of his submission and respect.
His giving permitted him an audience with me. Adorned in my striking red ensemble, I turned with stern anticipation and graced him with my attention. “Now you may kneel and speak.”
“Thank you, Goddess,” he whimpered with gratitude, the word ‘Goddess’ electronically reverberating around the well-lit Hooker Hotel. This recognition of my superiority was paramount. It sent a shiver of delight down my spine.
In his newfound humility, he got down on his knees, looking up at me with wide and mesmerised eyes. The seconds passed like hours, the atmosphere heavy with anticipation and the intoxicating allure of the dominatrix in front of him. He was drawn into my spell, a moth to my blazing flame.
Ultimately, he willingly, without coercion, handed over the keys to his life – his digital wallet was mine to plunder, pillage and exploit. He offered me complete access, the digital world equivalent of his entire existence.
But make no mistake, I didn’t tread lightly. I ransacked the wallet, draining him of every last coin. My eyes gleamed with satisfaction as I ravaged through his wealth. A gratifying, well-earned victory that underlined my absolute dominance over him.
After I had taken it all, I observed him for a few moments. His body slumped and on the brink of tears, he glanced up at me with a mix of admiration, regret and desolation – a sight I relished. His digital voice quivered as he thanked me. It was an experience of harsh reality for him, a circumstance he had willingly stepped into, and now, horrifyingly burdened with.
“Leave,” I commanded, my voice stern but resonant. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes unable to meet mine. His frame disappeared from view as he bolted out of the Hooker Hotel. Here, I stood tall, my financial dominatrix stature ever firmer, stirring both fear and fascination among the audience in the bustling premises of the Hooker Hotel.
