One of my loyal readers

... once made an avatar to visit me at my workplace in Secondlife. Or my house, as you might call it, as I live in the same area for years now.

Every now and then he walks through my street to visit me. Yesterday was one of these occasions. I was sitting in my window at the 'Playtime' window brothel and said hello as he came into my chat range. All smartly dressed in a suit. I hope some of the cum didn't spill on it, dripping from my chin or boobs.

So, here it is... See you next time ;-)

A day in whoring

It's thursday and I am going to document what happens on a typical day for me at Street Whores in Second Life. If you want excitement I suggest you go read something else ;-)

12:45 AM I wake up and get myself some breakfast and coffee before I head to the streets. Looking at minimap, it seems calm, in numbers, compared to the past 6 month average.

12:50 AM Whotter discovers I am awake and starts bugging me for fish. Shortly after I feed him I get logged off. I use the opportunity for a bathroom break and get back in.

12:57 AM I walk out into the street. It's chilly out and there is no one at the Meat Market, where I decided to start my shift. I only notice my friend and colelague Violet some 35m away.

1:00 AM I post a photo on Flickr and promote it in the 'The Sexiest : pornstars" group in Second Life, stating my goal to document a shift in the streets.

1:02 AM I notice my friend Violet has IM'ed me, 5 minutes ago. I reply to her that "I am okay" and I thank her.

1:19 AM I am going to pour myself a second cup of coffee. I check minimap and I conclude that there are 10 people present here in the red light district. One of them is a potential client. Inspecting his profile, he doesn't look very promising though, so I decide to ignore him. There's always more coffee to drink.
1:25 AM I decide to post the blog and edit it as I go along and new things happen. I send a tweet with a link to the blogpost.
1:31 AM Whotter looks me up at the Meat Market, demanding more fish. I tell him that he's had enough for breakfast already. I don't want him to get fat.
1:37 AM On minimap I spot another man in the distance. I identify him as a well-known tyre kicker and ignore him.
1:41 AM I post a link to my blogpost on Google Plus.
1:43 AM My colleague Melanie (Warden, not Tuxing) walks within my chat range. She wants to know how tricks are.
1:55 AM While I chat with Melanie, an elderly man in a dark suit walks past. He watches us, answers our greetings and then walks on.
2:07 AM Melanie walks off. She says that if she doesn't see anything interesting she will go do something fun for herself.
2:11 AM Whotter walks by, with his new cart/plane toy and asks for more fish. I tell him it's not lunchtime yet.
2:17AM I decided that I've had enough of it and I leave.

 

Gancao Bailey

I was chatting with Gancao this morning and she sent me this set of photos that I quite liked. I asked her who the photographer was.
"I am the photographer."

Gancao Bailey, by Gancao Bailey

Now I am trying to persuade her to join the club and make herself a Flickr-account too...

I banned one of the girls

There's a big sign at street whores. It's about 5m high and it's clearly visible in the busiest part of the neighbourhood. It contains the rules and rule nr. 1 is: "Do not send unsollicited IMs to the clients." It doesn't get much eaiser to read. Unless maybe someone attaches this sign to a stick and starts hitting us with it.

Still, there have been numerous girls throughout the years I work here now that try to get ahead of the others by sending IM's to the men. I've explained before, to them, but also in this blog, how it harms places and why we need to get rid of this sort of behaviour. Apart from this, it is anti-social and it kills the social interaction amongst the people present in the street.

We've been pretty busy seeking out the girls who break this rule the past 2 months and we've warned about 15 of them so far. So far I didn't have to ban one of them. Until the other day.

One of the girls was warned twice already. Once before we started to make a list of them, so we had that count omitted (we only warn once, next time they are caught they can be banned). I sent her a default notecard, simply stating that for repeatedly breaking the basic rules of the place she was hereby banned. I still felt kind of bad about it myself, I do have a feel of solidarity with my colleagues.
The response she gave me was quite vicious. For privacy purposes, I won't quote her , but she said that she would normally want to know who turned her in, but she didn't care as she had an alt on the sim already and she would just go on.

This confirmed to me that I did the right thing. Of course I am not going to tell her who informs us. That makes catching those alts a lot harder. SL is just full of anti-social people who don't care about the place they use for their gain or their co-workers. Kind of looks like RL, doesn't it?

No easy money in the streets

Some days are just harder work than others.

While at some days it seems to rain punters and the money falls from the sky, at others the job seems hopeless. There is simply nothing happening and the few men you get to see are tyre kickers, chatups and otherwise useless folks.
Then there are those days when things are possible, but you have to work hard for it. You have to push and pull, entice every last one of them to squeeze out that next blowjob, those few Linden Dollars.
Today seems like one of these days. Things may happen, but it's not going to be easy. All the men are hard work. There's no easy money in the streets.

Missionary

No, I am the missionary and my mission is simple: make them cum.

Job Hunt - Part 3

The man that had just appeared from behind the bus stop drew a knife. He probably wasn't the owner of the motel after all. I looked at him with big eyes.
  "Please, put that away ... "
  "You get on your knees."

With my experience in the streets, I knew it was safest not to argue with these types. I got down and watched with disgust as he opened his zippers. As long as he had the knife I just hoped that he at least had had the sanity to wash his cock in the morning.

He hadn't. Disgusted with the smell I sucked it off without much inspiration. I suppose that's what you get when you threaten me with a knife. I've had better jobs. He pulled me up by my hair and tore off my coat. I suppose he was kind of surprised to find I was wearing nothing underneath, but surely the surprise didn't pacify him. He shoved his fat cock up me.

 

 

Panicked, I Tried to struggle, but then I recomposed. I would wait till he came and then use his moment of release to try grab his knife. If he got calm afterwards, it might be safest just to let him walk off again.

He worked me against the ground roughly and had his way with me. In the end I got so dirty I decided I would have to end my job hunt for now and go home first. 

The job market in Second Life really sucks ...

(Previous episode)

Job Hunt - Part 2

At first I decided to go look for a couple of adult magazines. Coming from one, it seemed most likely that they would want to hire me. Stop number one was Bounce Magazine. They seemed rather new, but I somehow liked their cover layout. This might work... unless...

there was no one to interview me... The same thing happened to me at Playdolls Magazine. Playdolls is the new name of Playmates Magazine. They won an award for adult magazines a year or 2 ago. What can I say? They sure have a high ceiling. The next thing would be: visible staff.

A little disappointed I walked out into the street again. The first word I read was: STOP.
Why would I want to stop now? I had only just started my job search. There should be some organisation with an application form for a poor blogging whore?

Maybe I should have paid more attention to the chalk writing.

I felt lucky though. The neighbourhood was maybe a bit shabby, but there were clearly shops around that were still in business. In Second Life this is always a good sign. It wasn't before long that, while walking through a dark tunnel, I saw the word "Vacancy" written on a building. This was clearly the place to be!

Walking closer it became clear that the job would be one in a seedy motel. Not as glamourous as a magazine job maybe, but something has to pay for the bills. A few shabby or adultering motel (or both) guests that get drunk and leave me a tip might actually enable me to pay my rent. I might even be able to manage here without taking off my panties.

I walked owards the motel entrance, past a bus stop that had not been cleaned in ages. Just around the corner a man had been standing. He stepped forward. It freaked me out, but I recomposed. He could be attracted by the motel vacancy as well. He might even be the owner, my future employer. I said: "Hi."

(Next episode)
(Previous episode)

I love my fans

It's always nice to meet a fan in-world, to have someone say: "I read your blog and I enjoy it." Especially when you have just logged in and the day is still starting. That really helps.

There's no start of the day like a sticky start of the day. Thank you, you know who you are.

On the streets with Whotter and Fox

The other day when I opened my front door, I saw a fox sleeping underneath the staircase. I realised quickly that this was my son's best friend, so I called Whotter. The little fellow stumbled down the stairs, with this guilty look about him.

Try it, it is kind of hard to explain a wild animal that he is not supposed to move in. The animal may not understand that the place he is now living in is actually your house, not his. So, this is how it came to pass that I am now having a fox in my apartment. He simply decided to stay. Whotter loves that of course. Now I have two little guys following me around as I try to do my work on the streets of Second Life.

That is, if I don't count the siamese kitten, who is generally happy to stay at home, on the couch.

Money Machine

I love the smell of crisp money in the morning.

Nothing excites me as much as some horny man that comes walk up to me, still sleepy streetwalker, and lays down a handsome amount of cash for me, to do as he pleases. The feel to be wanted, to be paid while kicking your heels into the air. It's one of the greatest drugs that has kept me in Second Life for all these years. To have some horny man with his morning erection walk over to you and say "I feel neglected by (fill in: wife, girlfriend etc.)" and throw cash at you and spread you open.

To smell the excitement off the screen and wake up to that and say to yourself: "I'm a f***ing money machine!" And then to spend all of it on rent and heels and ever skimpier dresses. Until you are nearly broke and have to get out into the streets again.

Becoming a Selfie Queen - part 2

The life of a Selfie Queen isn't that easy. It may all look glitter and gold to you, but the reality is very different.

You may look glamourous and even have many followers, but the men who jerk off to your pictures may hate you just as much as their girlfriends who copy your style. Whether it is guilt, shame or jealousy, rest assured their hatred will follow you around.

The good thing about being a generally hated Selfie Queen is of course that you can use your style and reputation to scare some people away as well, like this pimp. He just hated to be on my selfies the other day, so he posed little of a threat to me as a street girl. After some initial shouting, he just ran away.

Suzi's 10th rezzday party - part 2

This monday we celebrated the 10th rezzday of Suzi Ah, owner and founder of Street Whores - Town Square. Suzi was DJ herself, as Was Rachael Ezvalt, who always DJ's at the monthly dances with her co-owner.

There was a lot to talk about, so I spent much of the time chatting with my friend Stephanie, mostly while I danced. Whotter joined in as well, but he freaked out early in the party when one of the guests, a strange man who had a profile that pointed to him being some sort of domme, adressing him in IM. Messages like "Why do you go as otter, darling?" didn't arrive well with the little guy.

After a while Rachael's partner Pony Ayesha arrived on the scene though. Whotter always seems to like Pony a lot, I was never really sure why, maybe simply because she has a tail as well, and also this time he immediately walked over to attract her attention. Pony was in a good mood and proved nice company for my little fellow, so he relaxed quickly again.

Very relaxed as well was Melanie Tuxing. Mel, one of the street's veterans who specialises in the dirtiest sex acts in the neighbourhood's back alleys, was quietly standing somewhere with her cigarette as you'd expect. I don't recall I ever saw her dance. She just waits and scans the space, meanwhile killing her voice with one fag after the other. Mel, I and a couple of others exchanged some sarcastic chat before she disappeared into the night again, without a doubt into one of the seedier back alleys in town.

An uninvited couple using my bed

It's not always as easy to focus on my writing. Sometimes some man IM's me, a client, he needs 'attention'. That's ok, giving them attention pays my rent. Sometimes they just want attention, without hiring me. I like that a lot less. Maybe if it's a special one, but only so many really are special in the end of course. Or it's a colleague, with a question, a social call, or just because she needs attention. Grrr. This time though it seemed quiet at first.
At first. Soon enough I found myself overhearing some sort of conversation, outside in the street. Strange, since the changes in layout at street whores have made the corner where I live a lot more quiet lately. But I assumed it was just in the shop downstairs.
Somehow, though I could not really hear well what they were saying, I had the impression these two were not shopping people. And they might not even be downstairs. They had disturbed me anyways, so I decided to have a look around.

A quick look with alt-zoom from from my desk learnt me they weren't some couple making out of my neighbours, so I went upstairs to have a look n my own bedroom, where my new king-size bed was still waiting for it's first customer. And, oh yes, there they were, a man going by the Second Life name 'Loving father' and some girl who was a member of the group 'Young sluts for married guys'. I decided to have a little word. Neither of them got up as I spoke to them.

"Oh la la. You know, if you want to use my bed, you can ask."
"Ok sorry." Can we use ur bed."
"Well, go ahead for now. Don't tell your wife.
"Ok thks."
"Do leave a tip at the entrance though, it helps with the rent."

I went downstairs again, to my desk, and tried to focus on my blog. That's not so easy when two uninvited visitors are having sex in your brand-new bed, but hey, they were going to leave a little tip afterwards.

There was some moaning and growling upstairs. I conluded they must have orgasmed. It was time for a little chat.
That was when my friend Stephanie entered the scene, in her cop uniform of course. I noticed that the man was someone on my 'friend list'. Probably due to some sort of chat harassment I must have decided to set my online status to 'invisible' to him. As my friend Stephanie noted to me in a private message: "Smart move. Friend the whore, wait until she is online, then use her place."

The man, who was probably as broke as he was impolite, wanted to argue about leaving a tip for using my bed. That was the moment when Steph decided to give him flying lessons...

The proposal

So, he proposed to me. I noticed he was still partnered. As he has always been in the past. He wouldn't have been able to cheat on so many of his SL wives with me otherwise. ;-)

So, why would anyone want to marry a girl who has more sex partners in an average week than most others in a lifetime? Well... I think I can answer that question, but I don't know if I could anser the question on why I would want to mix up SL work and SL personal life...

Well... I suppose that happened already too, like the day I got pregnant from Whotter...

This time he made me an offer I might not be able to resist. So, what will I do? I am not sure yet. Maybe I should ask him to include a nice dress and a party in the deal...

Cool Rush

Let's do another blog about a featured region in Second Life. I didn't get to see all of it, since my friend took me there because it would be relatively quiet. That makes sense: why else would you bring a prostitute to the bridge of a spaceship?

This wasn't Starship Enterprise though. I don't know what the name of the ship was anyways. It reminded me of the steampunk-themed submarine/spaceship crossovers in Second Life.

These weren't coloured in the dark shades of steampunk though. The whole array of space vehicles/buildings was painted in the colours of a candystore instead.* Maybe that's why it is okay to bring a hooker there? Or maybe it is just why they named the thing Cool Rush. I must have missed the clue.

I wasn't there to pay much attention to the surroundings either. My friend had gotten himself into a stressful situation and now he needed a hug.

Yes, I give hugs too... The regular fees apply.

* The following blog gives some info on the ideas behind the region: http://zikiquesti.blogspot.nl/2016/08/cool-rush.html It seems the creator of the region is actually named Kandiii Kidd, so my choice of words wasn't so bad with 'candystore'.

Behind the crack house

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Empty glass

I don't know how many times I was asked this stupid question: "For you, is the glass half empty or half full?¨

It's a silly piece of rhetoric that's always used to demonstrate how we can perceive things from a different perspective. It's used as a half-baked test for optimism or pessimism, in job interviews, by drunk aunts and uncles and the like.
Of course the question in itself is part of a frame: it suggests that an optimistic or pessimistic view has any influence over events in reality, whatever that might be.
I don't care, I like to stick to the facts. And in this case the glass is really empty. I need a drink.

All you can fuck

I decided to try out a new concept:

A flat-rate service, you can rent me for any number of sessions during an entire month. This is naturally limited by my availability. Maximum length of a session is 1 hour, beyond this it is simply too exhausting for me.

For a fixed price you can do as you like with me, as often as you need. Contact me in-world for more questions or simply join the corresponding group:
secondlife:///app/group/18369755-56b8-39b0-0a69-c3ae1801a771/about

Tyre kicker

 

From Wiktionary:

English

Alternative forms

• (North America) tire kicker

Etymology

From the pointless act of kicking the tyres of a car as part of the inspection.

Noun

tyre kicker ‎(plural tyre kickers)

1. (idiomatic) A person who pretends to be interested in purchasing an item (especially a car), but who has no intention of buying it.