I was alone, so I decided to experiment. I tried to figure out what to do with the work tables to no avail. Then I engaged the sex altar. As far as I could tell it was purely decorative. I attempted to sit or lie on it, but nothing happened. I always ended up sitting or lying near it, but never on it. I fumbled with the controls for several minutes, cycling through various positions so quickly I looked like a grotesque marionette attached to a ceiling fan. Then I discovered the "penetrate" command.
I was eventually able to replicate the actions I'd seen performed by SexyAnimal in the next room. Janet looked hotter doing it. I was strangely proud of this, and surprised at my pride, and not at all worried.
The game didn't seem to mind that she was fully clothed. The descriptions of my actions included a number of things that weren't technically possible. I wanted to see how much detail could be revealed, so I stripped my little doll bare and repeated the maneuver. It was disappointing in a sense, in that no real sexual detail was evident, but at the same time it was strangely arousing. It was like watching a pornographic movie shot with a home video camera with a busted auto focus. Or like watching the Playboy channel when you don't pay for the Playboy channel. It was like making dolls fuck.
And suddenly, watching my avatar masturbate herself, it all made sense. Sociolotron is a roleplaying game. Of course there are the usual stats and professions and even combat, but it's more than that; more than a regular game. Sociolotron is an outlet. It's an escape into hyper reality. It's pornography and a dating service in one convenient package. And all that's required is an internet connection and a little imagination.
In Sociolotron, I was Janet, the pretty girl with long, blonde hair and an orange, plastic vest. That was the only identity I had. I was not tethered to my actual name, my actual identity or my self any more than I wanted to be. I was not restricted by the face under the mask. The mask was all there was, all there would be. I was free to be whatever - and do whatever - I dreamed. My actions would be Janet's actions, transferred through the anonymity of the internet to my doppelganger, but motivated by my desires.
I thought of the reality behind every avatar I'd encountered, the person behind every keyboard, driving the characters to which I'd spoken, manipulating their dolls, manipulating themselves. I wondered why they were in Sociolotron and what they were getting out of it. I realized it isn't all roleplay. Behind every other avatar is another person, more like me than I might care to admit, pulling his little doll's strings for his own reasons.
Sociolotron is not unique in this respect; most online games allow this freedom. That's the whole point. This is why they're so addictive, so engaging. But Sociolotron isn't most games. In most games your fantasy world evolves around a world of ghosts and goblins, orcs and elves, or space pirates and traders - perhaps even Star Wars action figures. In Sociolotron, your fantasy involves real, actual people with about a hundred different sexual positions and moves. It is, in effect, a fantasy sex simulator.
I decided to try a different position. I knelt Janet forward, with her elbows touching the ground and her ass in the air. She automatically repositioned her hands, reaching around her ass to continue pleasuring herself. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Then Phil walked in.
"What are you doing?" he asked.