© Sauce*Box, Fall 1996.
All rights revert to author.
Totally Naked and Running Around:
One Man's On-Line Adventure
by Dinty W. Moore*
My first attempt at cybersex frustrated, Thoreau's words still ringing in my ears, I had no alternative it seemed but to gender-switch myself. Heck, they do it in Shakespeare's plays all the time. It is almost a literary tradition.
Since a clever computer navigator could probably find out my university account number, and thus my initials (DWM), I chose [deb] as my new nickname. Soon after that, my Deb persona wandered onto the "Netsex" channel of IRC, just to see what was happening.
I felt almost immediately like a bright light in a field of mosquitoes. I could hardly keep up with the high number of greetings blinking on my monochrome monitor. I had countless suitors within minutes, but I chose a fellow nicknamed [By-Tor] to be my sex partner. He came on to me like a barrel of beer-drunk monkeys, and, gosh, he sounded kinda cute.
He even persuaded me to leave the "Netsex" channel, and through the wizardry of IRC, created a whole new channel on which we could meet in privacy. He called it "Lovechild."
Here, then, is our complete encounter, in all its ludicrous glory:
[By-Tor] undresses Deb
[deb] My button is stuck
[By-Tor] pulls button off
[deb] Ping!
[By-Tor] pulls deb's dress? blouse? off
[deb] Okeedokee
[By-Tor] What are you wearing now?
[deb] Just my jeans
[By-Tor] unzippers your jeans with his teeth
[deb] Yikes
[By-Tor] caresses your supple breasts
[deb] With what?
[By-Tor] notices the erect nipples
[deb] Good observation skills
[By-Tor] licks in circles around the erect nipples
[deb] Don't make yourself dizzy!
[By-Tor] grabs the massage oil and turns down the lights
[deb] Yikes. I can't see. That oil is hot.
[By-Tor] thinks you'll grow to like it. He puts on soft music.
[deb] Is that Barry Manilow I hear?
[By-Tor] Yes, Barry baby.
[deb] By-tor you big, wild boy you.
[By-Tor] whispers sweet nothings in your ear
[deb] Like what, for instance?
[By-Tor] pops open the best bottle of champagne
[deb] Can't drink. Allergies.
[By-Tor] The champagne is for me then
[deb] Are you just telling me these things to get sex?
[By-Tor] would never do that
[deb] I'm totally naked and running around the room screaming.
[By-Tor] notices your heavy breathing
[deb] I think I'm freaking out
[By-Tor] grabs you and licks your hot spot
[deb] My parents are home! My parents are home!
[By-Tor] No they aren't
[deb] They're coming up the stairs. Hide, By-tor, under the bed.
[By-Tor] hides under the bed
[deb] Hi, Ma!
[By-Tor] is scared
[deb] No, Ma, no one was here. That was the radio.
(At this point, by typing the "chat" command "nick=[Ma]," I instantaneously switch my nickname to [Ma]. [By-Tor] remains huddles under the bed, understandably confused.)
[Ma] You little whore! Slap!
(I switch back to [deb])
[deb] Ssssssh, By-tor, if Ma hears you
she will kill you.
(I switch back to [Ma].)
[Ma] Who's under the bed, Deb?
(I switch back to [deb])
[deb] No one, Ma. I was reading the Bible.
[By-Tor] eats some soap
[deb] Ohmigod, Ma has the belt!
[By-Tor] runs
[deb] Swack! Swack! Swack!
[By-Tor] streaks from the room, naked.
[deb] Swack! Swack! Swack!
*** [By-Tor] parts channel #Lovechild
I don't really blame him for leaving in such a rush. Frankly, I was amazed that young [By-Tor] stuck around as long as he did. Personally, I was having a wonderful time, but I'm not sure I would compare it to sex.
Perhaps I was not compliant enough.
Here, in any case, is what I think this episode reveals:
1) Male cybersex partners don't care how obviously sarcastic the female becomes, because they are just too lust- driven to notice, and,
2) I would probably have made a very histrionic female.
I don't really know why [By-Tor] put up with all of my silliness and smart-aleck remarks. Perhaps he thought I was just living out my sexual fantasy.
Perhaps I was. I will get professional help soon.
But I have done it now, Mr. Thoreau. I have lived deep and sucked all the marrow of cyberlife. I have experienced cybersex, and you have too, I suppose, by proxy. I didn't like it much, as a replacement for sex, but it did make me giggle.
A fair number of people, though, seem to like it quite a bit. Why? Well, the most obvious answer would be safety. Net sex is the ultimate in safe sex, and I don't just mean safety from HIV and other transmitted diseases. Net sex leaves us safe from commitment, from entanglement, from having others witness our embarrassment. Sure, there are weirdos, but they are thousands of electronic miles away, they can't hurt us, they can't even see us, they can only type words, and words are easy to ignore.
If we choose to talk about sex on the Net, or even engage in a sort of sex, we can do it without fear. No one really knows who we are, no one but ourselves needs to know that we are doing it, and if anything goes wrong, if an affair turns ugly, or inconvenient, we can just switch it off. The perfect answer in a society that is increasingly busy, and increasingly unsafe.
Easy in, easy out, no regrets in the morning.
I have seen the future.
I already miss the past.
* ©1995 Dinty W. Moore; from The Emperor's Virtual Clothes: The Naked Truth About Internet Culture, published by Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, a division of Workman Publishing.
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