The sun seemed a tiny bit brighter this morning. My step a little lighter. Little things, seemed to bring a smile to my face with less warning...
Yesterday, was special.
I was nervous about bringing my desires to Sethra. I had shown her the key, and what it could do, but she displayed little interest. In the end, my desire to please, lead me towards something it seemed she would find little reward in.
It left me decidedly unbalanced, and unable to accept what becoming a living doll had to offer. My mind often fought against the key, sometimes to the point of my removing it.
I prepared myself for the worst. If Sethra did not approve, I would have to say my goodbyes to my Sisters. I was in conflict, and only she could sort it out.
As it happens, Sethra already knew what I was going to say. Something deep in the heart of me though, senses she wanted me to say it. It was something she was not going to force by showing approval or disapproval of. She knows me far too well.
She was, as usual, thoughtful and accepting. What I expected to be a sad day of farewells, turned into an impromptu day of shopping and trying on outfits. We discussed what being her doll would mean, and what kind of doll I would one day become.
It was the first time I actually felt like a doll, instead of just calling myself one.
That evening, in the Community Dolls room, Christina swore me in. A new key was placed against my back, and is now permanently attached.
When she asked if I was a doll, I could finally answer yes.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Vanilla.. With Sprinkles.
In the short time I have been exploring, I have seen much. A myriad of paths twisting out before me like ribbons on the wind. One such path, was that of living dolls.
I have always had a deep set fascination with stories involving the subject. Mechanical entities, reprogrammed people, androids and cybernetic beings have always held a little more interest than I would normally admit.
One of the first groups on the subject I discovered was the Community Dolls. Nestled in a back room in Sarah's Sanctuary, people are quietly converted into living objects. Beings of pure refinement, and beauty.
When I first came across the key that did so, I was scared. The thought of a key spiraling into my back, allowing someone to pick me up, and lead me around like a toy was a little overwhelming. I was however, more than curious. Admittedly, my thoughts wandered back to that room enough times that I found myself there on a few occasions, quietly contemplating.
What would it be like?
Would I even make a good doll? What is a good doll anyway? Would Mistress even want one?
In the end, I could not bear the burden of ignorance. I took the key, held it against my back and let it work it's way into my spine. For now, it appears I can still remove it, but the urge to do so, has become far less frequent.
I have always had a deep set fascination with stories involving the subject. Mechanical entities, reprogrammed people, androids and cybernetic beings have always held a little more interest than I would normally admit.
One of the first groups on the subject I discovered was the Community Dolls. Nestled in a back room in Sarah's Sanctuary, people are quietly converted into living objects. Beings of pure refinement, and beauty.
When I first came across the key that did so, I was scared. The thought of a key spiraling into my back, allowing someone to pick me up, and lead me around like a toy was a little overwhelming. I was however, more than curious. Admittedly, my thoughts wandered back to that room enough times that I found myself there on a few occasions, quietly contemplating.
What would it be like?
Would I even make a good doll? What is a good doll anyway? Would Mistress even want one?
In the end, I could not bear the burden of ignorance. I took the key, held it against my back and let it work it's way into my spine. For now, it appears I can still remove it, but the urge to do so, has become far less frequent.
60 Days...
"Two months."
It was a gift. I knew so then; but the meaning of it, the heart of it, seemed to creep up as quickly and quietly as the deadline itself.
"Two months to explore, and then decide."
It was a gift I did my best to use, and dearly hope it wasn't squandered. It will be difficult returning with so little to offer.
The task posed by Mistress seemed, at least on its surface, to be an easy one. Meet people and make friends, explore and learn about the world before us, and most importantly, learn about myself in the process.
While shy, I am naturally social and very curious. Meeting people has never been too difficult, and finding places to do so, even less so. I even managed to meet a few kind souls who were willing to bear the brunt of my (at times, somewhat personal) questions. In the short time I have been posing those questions however, I have somehow managed to only add to the pile.
There seems to be as many expressions of servitude, as there are flavors of ice cream; and as fate would have it, it looks as though I may be decidedly, vanilla.
It was a gift. I knew so then; but the meaning of it, the heart of it, seemed to creep up as quickly and quietly as the deadline itself.
"Two months to explore, and then decide."
It was a gift I did my best to use, and dearly hope it wasn't squandered. It will be difficult returning with so little to offer.
The task posed by Mistress seemed, at least on its surface, to be an easy one. Meet people and make friends, explore and learn about the world before us, and most importantly, learn about myself in the process.
While shy, I am naturally social and very curious. Meeting people has never been too difficult, and finding places to do so, even less so. I even managed to meet a few kind souls who were willing to bear the brunt of my (at times, somewhat personal) questions. In the short time I have been posing those questions however, I have somehow managed to only add to the pile.
There seems to be as many expressions of servitude, as there are flavors of ice cream; and as fate would have it, it looks as though I may be decidedly, vanilla.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Into the Spiral
Welcome to my blog.
This is my story. Perhaps the only. Perhaps one of many. A chronicle of my journey through Second Life.
A story of love? Yes... Of romance? Perhaps... Of rose colored glasses and pipe dreams? Most certainly.
Join me, as I escape down the rabbit hole... for I may need someone to drag me out.
This is my story. Perhaps the only. Perhaps one of many. A chronicle of my journey through Second Life.
A story of love? Yes... Of romance? Perhaps... Of rose colored glasses and pipe dreams? Most certainly.
Join me, as I escape down the rabbit hole... for I may need someone to drag me out.
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