Tuesday, September 9, 2008

It Needed... A Fish

Photo: Could not find a sufficiently non-nasty she-male photo.

9 September, 2008

It Needed… A Fish

This morning, idling away time on Second Life before going to work, I took a look at the little pond I made by the railroad tracks on Fem’s Island on Whimsy. It was nice—animated water, lily pads, frog sounds, sits—but it just seemed to need something.

I realized what it was. It needed a fish.

I mean, what’s a pond without a fish?

I remembered a little flexible fish I bought long ago, maybe around December, 2006. It swam around Pele for more than a year and had been sitting in inventory since the move to Whimsy—I hoped.

Yes! There is was!

I put it in the pond, and the pond was complete.

It was such a NICE fish I decided to go grab a couple more. I clicked on the fish, selected the creator, and looked at her profile.

Well. “Hot” (her description) she-male, ambisexual, gender-fluid, sexually amorphous, will-fuck-anything-that-moves-including-you, and she had a store.

In fact, she had a whole sim, a she-male role-playing sim, whatever that was. But it was she who had made my adorable fish, and I wanted more. I teleported.

Her store didn’t disappoint. Or, rather, it did, but not because it hadn’t met my expectations. Nasty oiled skins, bukkaka for sale, penises galore, the most extreme bondage gear I had ever seen (“turn your subs into pieces of furniture”), cum shots, and other poses of humiliation.

In the midst of all this was a stable. I thought, awww, until I saw it was filled with three-headed flaming cerebus dogs and such.

I was about to teleport away when I spotted the owner. And yes, her dick was hanging out of her jeans. Of course.



Lots of guys and maybe a few women have fantasies of potently phallic she-male creatures who pleasure them with voluptuous breasts and rock-hard penises. In reality, it’s usually the breasts which are rock-hard, filled with illegally injected silicones. If the she-male is taking female hormones, the penis will be shrunken and nonerectile like that of a seven-yeah boy.

So much for fantasies, huh?


To make a long story short, I IMed the fish-and-bukkaka maker, told her I was interested in some fish but despite my less than vanilla sexual history found the store a bit hard to take on a fish shopping trip. Fuck her if that offended her. I only wanted a fish! I shouldn’t have to deal with bukkaka to buy a fish!

She gave me a landmark and I went there and bought some fish.

The fish shack was on her land, the aforesaid role-laying (how’s THAT for a typo?) sin (how’s THAT for another!), on which she-males and those looking for she-males wander satyrically about with penises exposed and (of course) erect. Oh, the horror!

But just as I was about to jump back to Whimsy, I spotted a huge sculpted cliff on the land. I logged off so I could reappear in she-male paradise and profile-pick the cliff’s creator and maybe get one for myself.

So when I come back in world, I will, until I can leave, be at the mercy of she-males and she-male aficionados.

Pray for me.

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