Being a bimbo isn’t a costume I put on because i’s how I breathe with glossy lips, soft giggles and my brain permanently set to idle. Second Life lets me melt into something sweeter and softer and more pleasing. But lately something else has been tugging at me. It’s a place where that softness gets stripped away and where obedience is the only language and where my only worth is in my usefulness. Gor.
People used to ask me if I was a switch and I said yes because it made sense at the time. I thought my dominant streak meant something but it was just armor and a reaction. I wasn’t a Domme but I was scared and I got loud so I didn’t feel small. That’s just basic survival but the moment I stopped fighting and stopped posturing, and let go is when everything clicked. I don’t want control because I want it taken from me. I want rules and I want purpose and I want someone to decide what I am, where I kneel and when I speak.
And I still want to be a bimbo too.
Second Life Doesn’t Make You Choose
Second Life is good for that because it doesn’t make you pick a box and stay in it. You can be whatever you want and do it whenever you want. I can bounce between sex clubs in full latex while drooling and giggling with pink pigtails one night and then crawl into Gor the next night with my hair braided back my face lowered and my name taken away. Both feel real and both feel like me.
The trouble is… Gor isn’t exactly alive right now. Most of the sims are ghost towns and I keep camming around and peeking in and waiting to feel that spark but everything just feels paused and stale. I want to find somewhere I can learn in a place with rules. Somewhere I get told what to do and how to serve, when to kneel and how to be useful. But all I keep finding are dead plazas and empty taverns.
Still, the need hasn’t gone away.
Gor in Second Life – What It Is
Gor in Second Life is based on the books by John Norman. They are trashy and misogynistic and obsessive. But inside that twisted mess is a system that takes power away from the weak and teaches them to find beauty in their service. Gorean culture is very layered and structured. There are castes, codes, and expectations that mean everything. There areFree Men, Free Women, Slaves and Kajirae.
Slaves on Gor aren’t equals either, they aren’t roleplaying girls with bratty attitudes and safe words. They are property and they wear their chains like collars because their obedience is demanded, and their pleasure only matters if it pleases their Master. It’s intense and rigid and when it’s done right, it’s transcendent.
There’s something magical about having no name and being referred to as girl, or slave, or property. About knowing your purpose is singular: serve. There’s no pretending and no edge. It’s just pure submission and beauty and fire. Not everyone gets that and not everyone should but for some of us it’s the only place we feel whole.
Looking for Real Gor, Not Just the Costumes
So I’ve started looking because I want to become a slave in Gor. Not a fake one or a tourist. I want rules and I want limits. I want to be trained and shaped, broken down and rebuilt. I want to be made into something usable and I want it without the glam. I don’t need modern kink club energy or “babygirl” softness just the need to serve.
But like I said, it’s hard because sims are quiet. Owners are rare and most of the men claiming dominance probably couldn’t even spell Kajira if it was tattooed on their forehead. So I stay pretty and I stay visible and I wait and I look, I learn and I write.
Until then, I keep my lip gloss shiny and I keep my eyes lowered and I keep logging in, hoping to hear that one word:
“Kneel.”