Hi, I’m Makyinzie. Mak for short, I’m not much for wasting time. Seems I’m the new girl around here. I’m not new to Second Life, just new to this incarnation. I was gone for a while, stuck my head back into the black hole of pixels where sanity goes to die. Still, it’s a fun place to visit now and again.

My story probably isn’t much different from yours. Too much time on my hands, slight addiction to video games and Second Life is an ever changing vista full of creative imaginings. The first night I spent back in game I fixed up myself up and decided to check out a few old haunts of mine. The first an unruly rock club that’s been around for some time, I grabbed a place to stand on the edge of the dance floor back towards the exit in case I decided to make a quick exit. One thing that’s not changed about Second Life is the lag, thick as molasses and still annoying as ever.

I’d not been there long, checking out the crowd to see which faces might still be around I’d recognize and taking in the new ones. I was keeping to myself as I browsed the mass of bodies, enjoying the music as I took my time filling in my profile. I wanted it clear to anyone who decided to chat with me that I am here in Second for my own fun and pleasure. Purely role play and entertainment purposes I guess you could say. It was just as I was putting the finishing touches into the details that the IM popped up on my screen.

I’d caught the attention of a lycan, a dominant lycan at that. He’d sent his collared minion to scope me out, find out whom I was and if I’d like to chat with his master.  I didn’t have much to lose talking to him, what else is Second Life for if not to meet and make friends? I’d never hung around lycans much; I’d met their kindred hybrid brethren before. It’s all a form of role play in my view. So I took the chance and agreed to chat with his master.

Following him through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone as I made my way through the maze of dancing faces I had a moment to notice that his master was up above the crowd on an over looking balcony. Seems fitting, he was a wolf gazing out over the herd of humans and other breeds of persons. I was just a girl, human-ish at that moment nothing spectacular or extraordinary. I think I surprised him taking him at face value for what he chose to portray. He was exceptionally tall, even for a lycan, dark and brooding wrapped in his body armor. Pacing back and forth across the space that the balcony allowed as he studied me, I was acutely aware that he was sizing me up. I am petite for a human, barely reaching chest levels for most of the population. Against this lycan I came barely to the belt at his waist. His paw could have easily been larger than my head. Between the way he prowled around me and the sheer size of him I found that submissive streak, usually dormant around the fragile pixel men within this virtual world, stirring as I stood my ground.

He questioned me there above the crowd. Testing my boundaries, feeling for holes in my story, looking for something as he made his queries. We discussed my past, why I’d come back to Second Life with a new avatar, why I’d left Second Life to begin with. He’d been away from Second Life for a few months himself. He understood the need for a fresh start, a vacation from the nightmare I was hiding from.

We measured each other up as we stood there. I am naturally submissive in my actions but I’d been burned far too many times before. I wanted it clear that any interactions we might have would remain within Second Life. I am here for my own amusement, a distraction from the real world into an imaginary one. I am not one of the ton looking for their virtual match made in pixels to come sweep them off their feet within the real world. I am a role player; the person I play within Second Life does not exist once I hit that pretty red X.

My Lycan, as I soon came to call him, was King of his clan though not of blood lines or any other role play system I’d heard of. He had his one slave, a male furry with a penchant for speaking gibberish. They both lived on my Lycan’s island in a tower they’d built themselves. They, along with the subs that my Lycan’s slave owned, lived in rooms set high above the sea level above the cloud line even. He invited me to visit his tower. Along with him and his slave, we teleported out of the now disinteresting club and met in the throne room of his tower.

He summoned me a pillow I could sit on as we all sat and chatted for hours. I asked them about their clan, their intentions with it and the sort of role play they were involved with. The normal Dom/Sub relationship it seemed was what they had between them. The clan was a small family but they wanted to build it into something more with the intentions of joining in some sort of battle sim roleplay. I’m a sucker for a bit of gore and strife, they had me at battle. I was in and I believe my Lycan was quite happy about this prospect.

My Lycan and I became fast friends in those first days as we spent hours talking, planning and even lending a sympathetic ear as he discussed some of the growing pains between himself and his slave. He had collared this furry with the intent of taking him under his wing, teaching him the ropes of the BDSM community. He was instructing him in how to become a Dominant. He was a mentor to his slave as his slave explored and learned. I watched as my Lycan repeatedly fixed on issue for his slave only to be faced with another. If it wasn’t his slave being too soft with his own minions then it was the slaves’s girls who were unhappy or there was some sort of crisis with one of his slave’s friends insulting him and his tender ego. It was amusing and annoying all at the same time. The same slave, collared to the Lycan whose side I was glued to, trying to Dom me when my Lycan wasn’t around or trying to dismiss me as if I were one of his when he’d asked permission to speak to me. I had no collar around my neck and neither of them had that sort of claim on me. I was my own woman, but if I were to submit it wasn’t going to be this submissive male who was playing at being dominant.

I was quick to let my Lycan know of these incidents. I did not want a misunderstanding and his slave needed to learn exactly how this food chain worked. I do not bow down to another submissive. I don’t care how many girls he might have collared to himself, I was not one of those girls nor was his will strong enough to even bring that sort of response from me. He was like a dog that had been kicked one too many times and snipped at the ankles of anyone, even those who weren’t a threat.

Days past into a week and then two, at my Lycan’s side I’d finished morphing from human to Elf. I could more often than not be found tucked tightly against him as we strolled stores, explored sims or just sat in his tower talking for hours. He found that I loved forests so he built me my very own private forest on the island. We’d sit out there and cuddle as we discussed the future. He was quite curious about what I might like seen done with the sim, with the tower. I was his light, his ever bouncy and hyper bundle of elfin cuteness. Our only arguments were over him buying me things. I was just as happy to take care of myself but I found outfits and shoes sent to me from the market place, waiting for me when I’d sign in. He had wonderful taste, I couldn’t complain that he’d bought me atrocious things, he spared no expense in spoiling his elf.

It became common knowledge that I was his elf and he was my lycan. We were never apart, he took me everywhere with him and anyone else’s opinion be damned. I loved that about him, I loved that he didn’t care that I was an elf and he was a lycan. When others might have raised a brow he quickly reminded them of their place. This is where the issues began. His slave felt I was replacing him, his natural submissive side was jealous that I would take attention away from him.

We’d come upon a holiday weekend, I had plans for Real Life and would not be around for the weekend. I remember snuggling the night before I left, promising to see each other the next week. Everything was going wonderfully. Monday came and I logged into Second Life to resume my role as Mak. Instead of finding my Lycan waiting for me, I found a note telling me good bye.

I’d never had a Dear John letter written to me before but this is what I found that day. It seems my lycan and his slave’s relationship had deteriorated. His slave ran away, between that betrayal and his apathy at having his virtual life torn apart he’d decided to leave Second Life. He wished me well and left me his note. Not so much as a real good bye even, left me standing there disappointed and confused.

This is when the real fun began. My lycan’s runaway slave decided to message me. It took me a bit to decode the dyslexic gibberish but it came to that the slave hated me for taking his master. It was my fault that him and his master had ceased to spend all their time together. Forgetting the fact that this “slave” had his own slaves and that this was a mentoring sort of thing, how was it my fault that he had not communicated his dissatisfaction with his master instead of just walking away? It was my fault that he couldn’t tell his master that he felt neglected? Have I mentioned my distaste for weak minded idiots?

After continuously being harassed, called a bitch and told in unintelligible broken English that this was my fault, I put the fool on block. I signed in from time to time for weeks hoping for a sign of activity from my Lycan. I’d just about given up hope and was in the process of writing my goodbye with the intent to leave Second Life again when an IM popped up on my screen. It was my Lycan! I surprised myself in how happy I was to see that simple “Hi” pop up on my screen.

I couldn’t contain myself, I about flew into his arms the minute he sent me a teleport to his location. I’d missed my Lycan, my protector. I couldn’t believe it was him. I squealed my joy and climbed promptly into his lap where I belonged. Snuggled tightly against him I was hopeful things could return back to normal and we could resume our role play together.

As is the end of most stories of this sort, this one is not a happy one. My Lycan had returned and he was ecstatic to find out that I had not disappeared. I’d waited for him.  We did begin to promptly begin to plan our virtual relationship together. He even bought a sky box, nothing as grand as the island but there were only two of us and I was just happy being near him again.

This was great… for about 10 minutes. My Lycan had come back, come back to convince me that we should be together outside of Second Life. I’d always made it quite clear that I was not interested in a real relationship; I came to Second Life for a fantasy. He was not a lycan and I was not an elf outside of Second Life. I was playing a role, I thought he was too. I guess we were both wrong. I left that night after having tried to explain to him that this was a game to me. While I cherished what we had within our virtual lives, I was not looking to merge the two. I’d made that clear I’d thought. My lycan is no longer mine. He’s out there somewhere within Second Life but I am keeping myself to the shadows of Second Life. I’m not connecting with anyone, just exploring and taking in the sights. Maybe it’s not so bad keeping to yourself, but I’ll always hold that Second Life should be shared if not by one someone then by many. Maybe I’ll make some friends in my journey, I guess we’ll see.