Warning: This post contains material that may be considered sexually explicit. While it does not go that far, you may wish to not read this at work. You have been warned. Enjoy!
aka: A Brief
History of Dream Walking
“For Dream Walking
in a way is the ultimate control, the ultimate trust, and least of all, the
ultimate level of exploration. For what
exists within the confines of the human mind is far greater than what exists in
the universe, in beauty, possibility, and danger. Mistrust a handler and you die. She is your lifeline, your breath, and least of all your
heart, while your body becomes a slave to your mind.”
- Harvey Shanbhag, President of United Planets, 3347.
It was the day the aliens came. The aliens and their shiny new technology and
shiny new promises. I remember it
clearly. It was a dark day, the
pollution clouds moving like mist in the shadows, encompassing all of London,
even more than normal. They came, and
the city lit up like Yule. All the
lights turned on, the music started playing, and everyone was awake. People went to work; people went to the
shops, and on the lifts. Life came back
to the dark and polluted city of London.
But it was to only hasten our demise; for it was the day the aliens
came.
I remember it well.
I was at work, in a shop. It was
just after Yule and the lights still glistened in the wet streets. And then the aliens came, taking us. I was the first it would seem. Alone in the middle of the night, I was
pulled from my bed and placed in a chamber; it was wet and cold, and full of
feelings of emptiness in our sleep. Soon,
emptiness was replaced by feelings of others around me – new faces, new names,
new thoughts and memories abounded around me, and yet always in our sleep. We were never awake.
That is when I met Sally.
Sally was a scientist, had a two doctoral degrees from
the University and was studying psychology.
Psychology and biochemistry she said.
Her specific area of expertise was in dreams; while we were all taken by
the aliens, she snuck her way in to study them, and in the process entered the
chamber we were all kept in. She had a
commanding presence always; we were placed into menial tasks while in the
chamber. Immediately on our first day
together, she organized us and managed to find a way around the tasks. “They know what we’re thinking,” she always
said, “So think something different.”
Her keen advice to us all.
During our time together, we fell deeply in love, but not
in the platonic way one would. I had
coupled with a gentlemen from Queens, and together we lived a long and
prosperous marriage in our arranged dream world of the alien chamber. But there was always Sally. Sally would walk past, Sally would glance, or
even Sally would stare deep in thought at those that kept us for their secret
bidding.
Then one day, we all awoke; the war had been won and we
were left to sort out the mess. My husband from Queens was the first to
leave; while we cared for each other, we were little more than fill for our own
emptiness we left behind, and he left an entire family. Others left too that first day, week, month
that we had awoken. Those that stayed at
first stayed out of obligation to their fellow dreamers, that we sort out what
had happened, who we had become, and what was to become of our lives now out of
our slumber.
But Sally stayed, Sally and her deep stares, and her icy
blue eyes. She would walk to the
desolate bridge of the ship, pushing buttons, trying to get any reaction from
anything that she could. Though she was
a psychologist and biochemist by training, she also had a love for computers
and cracking codes. She would stare for
hours at end, hardly noticing anything or anyone that buzzed around her. Then one day, after our ten plus years near
each other she finally spoke.
“Adella,” she would whisper, looking deep into my
mind. I’d look back at her, into
near-empty, calculating eyes, and look to her for more. And then she’d walk away, walking to the next
computer, the next puzzle. In a way I
think it was her way of coping with our captivity and slavery. One moment she’d try to make a human
connection and the next walk away, the memory of humanity too cold and painful
for her to participate in.
Things started to change though. One day I awoke to the sound of a slight buzzing. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted with the
sight of a room full of dancing white lights – she had managed to get the
systems up. I walked up to her, she sat
silent, staring at her screen. I walked
up and knelt by her side, looking at her, her body never recognizing the fact
that I was there.
Finally after an hour or more she sighed, “Adella, you
can’t be sneaking up on me like that.”
Was she that absorbed in her work that it took her that long to realize
that I had been there for so long? I
shook my head and stood up, silent.
“Find me some tea?” she said as her long delicate fingers went back to
work on the console. That’s how it
started – two desperate souls without a place to return to. I had found out that London had been
destroyed in the war, the only real place left for us were the refugee camps of
Saturn. We had lost our homes, our
lives. I ran a stationary shop, selling
cards and small party favors for Yule; she had been at King’s College. All gone now, nothing left for us but Sally’s
work.
That’s how our new life started – me fetching tea for
Sally after a month, of course, after that time we were the only two left at
the wrecked ship we had grown to call home.
And we began our daily ritual – I would fetch tea, watch her work for
awhile, and when I grew too restless, I would go about looking through what was
left of the ship, always vigilant to avoid the chamber. “You lack discipline,” she finally said one
morning when I handed her a cup of earl gray.
“Excuse me?” I
asked, shocked at the observation and the fact that she said more than her
usual request for tea. “I ran a shop,” I
replied to her vacant stare. Though I
was accustomed to her stare, I saw it daily when she was working, she never
used that stare on me. Worse, her eyes
never left mine as she took my hand.
“Come with me,” she said, leading me away from the
command deck. “You need discipline,” she
said as she rummaged through an old crew quarters. “Yes,” she said, taking a cylinder of coil in
her free hand. “Kneel,” she commanded me
and I obeyed; who was I to question the words of the great Sally Stephens,
PhD? I knelt down in front of her. “I can teach you discipline, if you’d like,”
she said, her statement more of a command than a question.
I immediately nodded.
“Yes Sally,” I said.
She shook her head.
“Ma’am,” she said. “Call me
‘Ma’am’ for now. Close your eyes,” she
said and I did as I felt the cool metal being coiled around my neck. I tried to suppress a shiver but couldn’t and
I could hear a cold, icy laugh emerge from her.
“You may open your eyes,” she said as she took me by the chin, tilting
my head up so I could see her mouth as she spoke. “Do as I say and you will be rewarded. Do as I don’t and you will not. Simple.
Discipline is easy,” she said, looking over my face and body as she
commanded me. After her own silent
speech she said, “Tea please.”
Our ritual of my training continued. I’d wake up, she’d already be at a console,
digging through lines of code. I tried
to ask her one day what she was looking for, and after a tongue click and a sigh,
she finally told me. “Neurotransmitters
and sleep cycle patterns,” she said, running back to her work. “Now kneel.”
I did as I said, taking my punishment for interrupting her studies, only
returning to our usual ritual later that evening.
A few days later, I awoke earlier than normal, the sound
of the ship having changed from its usual meditative hum to a warning. I gathered my items, ran to the bridge, but
Sally was not there. I ran to her other
haunts in the ship: medical bay, the captain’s quarters, an exercise deck, but
she was nowhere. Finally, I looked to
the last place I hoped she would not be – the old dream chamber.
I ran in and saw Sally, deep in a slumber and alien
tendrils wrapped around her body. I
gasped. Once we had emerged from here, I
had vowed to never return, but there I was, limp with alien vegetation wrapped
around her body, like the day we awoke and emerged from this nightmare
room. I knew she had been testing me,
teaching me, showing me the inner workings of the systems of the ship to the
extent that, in an emergency, I was able to operate in the medical bay and send
communications. Was this a test? I knew she had been working in here but had
always refused to follow. I looked over
at her and saw she had stopped breathing.
“No!” I muttered and ran in, prying cold slimy vines from her body. She fell forward, onto my shoulder and I
carried her to the medical bay. She
still was not breathing. I eased her to
the floor and attempted to blow a couple breaths in her mouth; I was met with a
gag and a green slime oozing from her mouth.
A couple more attempts at breaths and she finally inhaled, coughing more
of the slime out.
“Thank you,” she said, a weak smile coming across her
face as she lay under me.
“What were you thinking?!?” I sputtered in shock.
“It worked Adella, it worked.”
“What worked?” I stared at her. Was it worth committing suicide to get a
scientific endeavor to work? I looked
down at her, sorrow overtaking me. Had I
not come along early, no one would have known that what Sally did
“worked.” “You stopped breathing,” I
said, trying to shake off any anger or fear I wanted to throw at her.
“There was oxygen, from the vines,” she said, coughing a
little, still unable to sit up from the cold metal floor. “It’s how we breathed in there before.”
“You stopped breathing,” I repeated myself, hoping that
Sally would recognize my concern.
“You were disciplined,” she said in an even weaker voice
before passing out.
I looked her over, knowing that I had a long day ahead of
me. “Come on, we need to get you to the
medical bay, and get a doctor out here,” I said to her unconscious form as I
pulled her up to my side. She was even
heavier than I remembered before.
When I got her to the medical bay, I did the best I could
to get her limp body into the scanner.
All these months of work and there she lay, asleep. Really, looking over her, she was fine,
probably just sleeping it off. I could
go behind her back, call for help, and let a real doctor come and check her
over. But, that wasn’t what she
ordered. “Do as I say,” she always said,
often followed by little threats I never thought she’d fulfill, including this
one. But, I knew she trusted me to look
over her unconscious body. I closed the
lid to the scanner. “You owe me,” I said
to her near-lifeless form.
After a few hours, I heard her breathing deepen and she
awoke. “How do you feel?” I asked,
looking down at her. She looked around,
obviously wanting to know if I had called others in for help.
“Like I had a really good night’s sleep,” she whispered
as she stretched. As she sat up, still
looking around she asked, “You didn’t call anyone, did you?”
I shook my head.
“I wanted to but somehow I couldn’t,” I said, offering an accepted hand
to her to help her to her feet. I felt
her cool hands on my shoulders as I helped to steady her out of the
bio-scanner.
“You did well then,” she said, the back of her fingers
lightly rubbing against my cheek. “You
will be rewarded of course,” she smiled, a warm lust in her eyes. She leans in, unsteadily, and staggers
forward. When she collects herself, she
stammers in a shy tone, “That was supposed to be a kiss.”
I look down at her, still unsteady in my arms. “I don’t think I can take advantage of you in
this situation,” I say, helping her walk to the cabin we’ve been staying
in.
“Yes you can,” she orders and leads on from there.
Though the cabin is just as I had left it this morning,
something there feels warmer, closer, more like home. I help ease her to her bed. “I don’t think you should work today,” I say,
helping pull a blanket up over her.
“Really I’m fine,” she says, arguing. “Here,” she pulls me down to the bed with
her. “If you say I need rest, then you
stay here and rest with me,” she places her arm around me, pulling me closer to
her. Soft lips touch mine and I am
pulled further into the bed. “You’ve
done well, anyone else would have called for help,” she says. “And honestly, considering what we have here,
we can’t have others stealing our research.”
I feel her hand caressing my cheek again.
“Isn’t it dangerous to be your own test subject?” I ask,
leaning back from Sally a bit.
“Yes, but that’s why I have you here,” she says, leaning
back forwards towards me. She grins and
takes a hold of my collar. “You’ve been
trained, you know what to do, and I know that I can only trust you.” She pulls on my collar harder, standing up in
the process. “Kneel,” she says and I
do. “This is where I need to trust
you. Do you understand?” I nod.
“Do you promise that I will do as I say?” I nod again and she looks me over, staring
deep into my eyes. “We start further
testing tomorrow.”
The following morning I am met by a new array of
sensations covering my body, and I can’t quite tell if it is the lingering
aftermath of pleasure, pain, or both. As
I roll over, the scent of leather and oil hit my nose, and I see Sally still
asleep on the bed above me. I look to my
wrists, which are now vaguely free from the pleasures of last night; my ankles
did not fare as well and I reach down to free them, still hearing the strains
of Sally’s light breathing in her sleep.
I quietly try to get up but kick at a chain, “Shi…” I catch myself
cursing and Sally moves.
“Tea,” she sighs, ordering me back to my duties. “We have a lot of work ahead of us now,” she
says, wiping the wrinkles from her bio-suit and I look down to my suit, doing
the same.
I nod, “Yes Ma’am.”
As I to the attached kitchenette I see her form leave the quarters.
We worked like that for a month, maybe two. I’d wake early and free myself from whatever
was bound to me, and she’d follow me up, often going to a small warehouse that
was in the belly of the ship. Each
morning I’d arrive with our tea, and I’d see her assemble. After awhile, she had created what looked to
be a chair with conduits running from it.
“Like it?” she asked one day, staring at it in
pride. “I think we can recreate the
dream state again, only now, you’ll be able to monitor every moment of what
happens in there,” she says. “Here,” she
takes my hand, “This is the control booth.
From here, you are my lifeline.
Every breath I take you can see, and even control. Every chemical that is made by my brain, you
can influence. You will even be setting
what brain waves I create,” she points to a read out. After an hour of showing me each panel, she
quizzes me. “Very good,” she says,
rubbing her fingers over my sore and swollen lips. “Now we both know how to work it.” She looks at me and cocks her head. “Hmm,” she says and starts to look over my
body, poking and prodding at various points.
“Where are your ports?” she asks.
“Ports?” I reply,
not knowing what she had said.
“The ports on the bio-suit the aliens fitted you
with.”
I look down and see little circular ports on her
body. I reach out and touch one. Though I had seen them on her, I had always
assumed that she already had them on when she was brought here originally. I shake my head. “I was the first one here,” I say, saddened
more by the fact that my bio-suit did not have ports than by the life I was
forced to leave behind.
“Ah,” she says, walking a circle around me, observing my
body. “Then it is imperative that I have
your trust,” she says as her hands change from a light poking to interchanging
between a light slap and a light rub.
“My life is literally in your hands,” I feel a sting, “Anything goes
wrong, and only you can fix it,” I feel another sting. “Most of all, you’ll be the only one who can
wake me,” and another sting.
“I don’t believe that,” my voice cracks.
“Well, there is a stop-gap built in. As long as someone is continually monitoring
this, I will stay asleep. No monitoring
and a sequence will begin to wake me up.
Power goes out and the chemicals keeping me in my slumber will wear off,
and I will wake up,” she pulls on my hair, playing with it in different styles
as she talks. “While you have been
following orders from me this last year or so, it is now time to switch. It will be the same while I’m awake of
course, but it could get lonely,” she now toys with my lips and I wince a bit
as her finger hits a particularly sore spot from the previous night. She continues to instruct me.
“Think you’re ready?” she asks, pushing a few buttons on
my console and I nod. “Good,” she
says. “This first trial will be to see
if you can alter and monitor everything.
I’ll only be deep enough to be meditating, so I can pull out if
needed.” I bite my lip. I can’t believe that after everything Sally
had succumbed to in the chamber a few months ago, let alone almost dying, that
she was willing to go back under again.
“I can see you’re nervous,” she said, pressing a few more
controls. “I’ll have a way of
controlling as well from my end,” she holds up a gauge of sorts that is fitted
into her hand; at the end is what looks like some sort of an electrical
plug. “If I feel I need to wake and
cannot, I have it set up that I can.” I
look back at her hand. “It’s a panic button,
but knowing that I can trust you, I really won’t need it,” she says, pushing a
button on the console. “Come, I’ll show
you how to fasten me in.”
I follow her into the room with the chair and she begins
to show me how to strap her in, starting with plugging in the panic
button. “Do you really think this is a
good idea?” I ask, nodding in respect to Sally.
Sally shakes her head.
“Talking out of turn,” she nags me.
“I thought we were past this.
It’s about trust. I can still
trust you, right?” She looks me in the eye.
Though her normal modus operandi in this situation would be to command a
question to me, this one she allows me to answer of free will.
I nod my head, “You can trust me,” my voice shakes. She looks at me, knowing there is more to
what I have to say. “I just don’t know
if I can trust myself.”
She reaches around me, giving me a hug. “You already have dear Adella, you already
have.” She pulls back, looking at me and
then finishes strapping herself in with my help.
A few months after our successes, it has become evident
that the use of a chair-type mechanism for holding the body will not work, when
we awake one morning and I hear Sally softly sobbing. The previous day we had gone a record 18
hours with her in the chair.
“You okay?” I ask, kneeling as I check on her. She shakes her head and grimaces, continuing
to try to hold back. “Pain?” I ask and she nods rapidly, trying not to let
on how bad she feels. I try to help her
sit up and I feel how hot an inflamed her back and arms are.
“We can’t use the chair anymore,” she says as I look her
over, her body having atrophied a bit and her suit hanging looser on her
skin.
“But we got it to work, didn’t we?” I ask, helping her
up. I am taking her to the medical bay
with our without her wishes, and she seems to be complying with me.
“Yes, but my body can’t handle it, it hasn’t been able to
handle it for awhile now, I just haven’t mentioned it. There needs to be a suspension of something,”
she begins to think aloud, her thoughts numbing her pain enough that I can lead
her to the scanning bed. We pass an
upright stasis chamber on our way to the bed.
“Of course,” she says as she stops me by the unit. “But I can’t stay in for long; my skin would
never allow it.”
“The bio-suit?” I ask, my arm still wrapped around her
for support.
Sally shakes her head.
“I don’t think they’d last.”
I look across the way to a chair similar to what she
based the current model on. “Why not
just use shorter times?”
Sally shakes her head again. “No, they kept us asleep for years without
damage to our bodies or our suits. We bodies
didn’t age, our muscles didn’t atrophy” she nods to me to let her stand on her
own and she takes a few steps forward.
“This,” she says, pointing to a microscope-like unit and presses a few
buttons, powering it up. “I missed
this,” she leans forward, looking into it, studying it. “Yes of course,” she says, pressing a few
other buttons. “Tea please,” she says,
indicating to me not so much the desire for the hot liquid, but rather the need
for her steadied research of this device.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I think it’s another computer, one we missed,” she says
without moving from the machine. “Yes,
it’s here, but the supply seems finite,” she presses a few more buttons. After a few minutes, she stops and looks at
me, not saying a word.
“What?” I ask, fearing her next words.
“You have to go in.”
I shook my head.
“You stopped breathing.”
“I didn’t have you watching me,” she took my hand and led
me to the screen. “You have to go
in. This is new; it’s what we were
missing before.” I look away and look
back to her. Though the last year or so
of scientific experiences has taught me to read the biochemical readings that Sally
was so used to working with daily, what I saw on the screen was still new to
me. Sally sighed. “You have to go in because, if this works, I
need to be able to monitor exactly what happens to you in there. I won’t leave the computer, except to be next
to you, to help you in and out of it, like you do for me.” She looks to me with hopeful eyes, “Only you
can do this right now.”
I shake my head in disbelief; when we emerged from the
chamber, I swore that I would never re-enter it again. I already entered it once to save the life of
my dear friend, and now I was in disbelief that I would be entering it yet
again to go back into that dream world that I was very glad to leave.
“So?” Sally asks, the tone of her voice expecting
miracles.
“I’ll do it.” I
shake my head lightly and I catch myself biting my lip. I really don’t want to do it, but I know that
I can trust her and I know that she knows what she is doing.
“Come,” she takes me hand and leads me into the
chamber. I feel my heart begin to race
as I see the room. Though we only were
conscious in this room for a few minutes, seeing it represents my fear of all
we were subjected to for those ten years.
I look at Sally, walking ahead of me, practically dragging me now into
the chamber, and she is oblivious to these feelings. I was taken, the first to be taken here, she
only volunteered.
“Sally,” I hear my voice squeak out and she stops.
“What is it?” she turns and looks at me, and I feel
myself blush a little.
“Don’t leave me,” I say.
I know that nothing will go wrong really, she’s going to be watching
every moment that I’m in there. In fact,
I’ll be safer in there than I am out of there; the computer monitors everything
that happens in the body. Sally looks me
over.
“I’ll take you only semi-conscious the first time. If you can handle that, and we’ll be able to
talk to each other, then we’ll talk about going under fully.”
I nod, “Okay.”
Though I trust my friend with all my life, being in this chamber alone
makes me nervous.
Sally takes my hand again and leads me up to the wet,
warm pod. As I touch it with my hand to
climb in, the vines move, allowing me entrance.
I look to Sally with nervous eyes.
“It’s okay, it knows that I’m in control now,” she says
and helps me up.
As I start to climb in, the tendrils help push me up as
well. When I turn around to look, Sally
is now holding a small tablet and pushing buttons on it; she is controlling the
vines that are helping me. She chuckles
a little and looks at me, “Every move, I’m in control,” she says as she presses
a few buttons; a tendril of the chamber lightly moves across my cheek, leaving
a trail of warm, thick liquid, like a warmed paraffin wax. As I get into the position needed, I feel a
vine snake its way up my leg, massaging it gently.
“This is very strange,” I say.
“We were asleep at this point,” she says. “Relax, close your eyes, let this happen,”
she says and I hear her press a few more buttons on the tablet. I close my eyes, and slowly, I feel a tendril
snake up my arm, caressing it all the way.
“I’m in complete control of your body right now Adella,” she says, and I
feel another tendril snake up the other leg, stopping near my pelvis and
pushing on me. I gasp a little, and it
does feel good.
“Pheromones, it works on pheromones,” Sally exclaims, but
I don’t care. I feel good, comforted,
and another tendril snakes around me, bringing with it the warm paraffin wax
feeling, kneading my muscles, and I’m suddenly alive in sensations. Warmth, heat, massage, it feels too
good. Why was I so scared, I wonder to
myself and I give in to waves of pleasure seeping across my body. I can’t move, but I don’t want to move; if I
move I know that these wonderful feelings will cease. I hear Sally chuckle a little, further away
than she was before, and I feel another tendril snake around me, probing at my
mouth a little. I open for it and it
pushes in lightly, probing, and I remember Sally telling me that it will
breathe for me. My hearts quickens but
the tendrils react to it, massaging me more, and I catch myself in a
pleasurable moan. Sally chuckles
again. “Liking it?” she asks, and I feel
more and more ecstasy take over me. I
inhale and let all these sensations take control.
And I dream.
When I begin to come to my senses, I am laying on a
gurney with a warm blanket over my body.
Light, smooth lips are kissing and nibbling mine. Sally is kneeling above me, kissing me,
looking me over.
“How was it?” she asks and I look around.
“What happened?” I ask.
“It worked. How
did it feel?”
My hands smooth over my body; the suit is intact, though
I thought while under that the liquid had replaced it. “Good,” I nod and grin, wanting only more.
Sally stands up, offering me a hand. “Then it worked well,” she said.
I sit up and look over my body and around me; I’m still
in the chamber, but it now feels completely different to me, like it’s my home,
or the bed of a secret lover. “Wow,” I
say in awe, “Was it supposed to feel like that?” I ask.
Sally sits beside me, her arm wrapping around me to show
the tablet she had been controlling my experience with. “The aliens used pheromones and hormones to
stimulate our brains to produce a high amount of endorphins. Need a cigarette?” she chuckles as I bask in
my afterglow. I catch myself blushing.
“And your experiences with entering the dream world?” I
ask, somewhat jealous of her now.
“If you want to know if I felt like you did, the answer
is no, there were no endorphins. Did you
feel like fighting the tendrils at all?”
I shake my head; fighting was the very last thing I wanted. “The endorphins stimulated your body into
believing you were having a very pleasurable experience, when in fact, you were
being held prisoner and could not move.
I even took you fully into sleep; you weren’t fighting the system at
all.”
I look back behind me at the chamber I was held in,
amazed at the room and the experience.
“How long?”
“Six hours.”
Six hours? I look
with amazement at the chamber; Sally could make millions of credits in the
pleasure districts with this, but here she is, trying to apply science to it
for the greater good.
“I’ll start in the morning on adapting the liquid to the
tank we found, but with fewer endorphins,” Sally grins at me, teasing me a
little about what I felt in the chamber.
“For now, let’s get some rest,” she offers me a hand and I follow her to
bed.
A week passes, with little spoken word shared between us
other than Sally’s customary, “Tea,” request.
We wake, I follow her to her latest work shop, and I watch, handing her
tools, schematics, and data tablets as requested. Soon, she is alternating her work between the
tank and a nearby controller, showing me how to work it, and what to look for.
“You’re lucky,” she reminds me one day. “You’re the only human to experience the full
experience and potential in there,” she reminds me of the chamber and I
blush.
“Did you plan it that way?” I ask sheepishly.
“Yes,” she said and smiled. “I had to reward you for all your hard work
some how,” she presses a few buttons on the console and I blush. “But, I did not change the original settings
at all. We all felt that while in there,
our minds just never registered it while in the aliens’ dream world.” She tweaks a few more settings. “I think it’s ready,” and she heads to the
tank on the opposite wall, nodding to me.
I follow and assist her in, data tablet in hand. After a few pressed buttons, she is asleep
and I am alone again, monitoring her.
After a few hours, I pull her to consciousness as
instructed. “And?” I ask, she nods.
“It worked.”
~~~
I remember when it all began, the day the aliens came. It was such a sad day, but now it is
brightened by the contributions Sally and I had made to the world. I remember the day I went to sleep and the
day I began to really live, as we finally made a contribution to our
society. Dream chambers have been
delivered to small communities where it would be otherwise impossible to work,
children attend school by them, university even. Men and women are home more for their
children, no longer needing to commute.
Sally and I stayed at the ship, upgrading the systems to continue more
work. We hired a crew; people had jobs,
money, and that money built up the post-war economy and brought a new life for
many people. And dream walking soon
replaced the computer. People could
attend colleges, museums, plays, sports; everything was available in the dream
world.
Special Thanks:
Jackie Graves
Credits:
Concept: Jackie Graves, Arizona Navarathna
Story: Arizona Navarathna, Sonja Mistwallow
Modeling: Sonja Mistwallow, Arizona Navarathna
Photography: Philip Belgold
Photo Editing: Arizona Navarathna
Editing: Arizona Navarathna
HTML Editing: Medavac Renfold
Video: Sonja Mistwallow, Medavac Renfold
Communications and Locations: Sonja Mistwallow
Stylings:
Sonja/Sally's Clothing:
Outfit:
Graves, Paradox Megapack for L$980
Shoes: Graves, Alpha Boots in Black for L$390
Arizona/Adella's Clothing:
Outfit: Graves, Enigma Bodysuit for L$440
Shoes: Graves, Vertigo Boots for L$490
We at The Redneck Fashionista are no exception to wanting to save the girls (especially Dad and Belgold... course Mom's a nurse so that helps too), and it looks like we've found a definite partner in crime with Carrie Bridger and the ladies of Carrie's Lingerie. Ms. Bridger and company have teamed up to offer five women's lingerie sets and three men's boxer/t-shirt sets with all proceeds going to save the boobies... I mean Making Strides Against Breast Cancer and breast cancer research for the American Cancer Foundation. I was lucky enough to get my hands on a few pairs to feel around... I mean model.
All of the sets are available in her mainstore, with the proceeds of the sales going towards research, each will cost you between L$150 and L$400. Ms. Bridger sent out three women's sets and one men's set for us to try out. As usual, her texture-work is superb and highly refined. I've always loved her work, and these items are no exception. She always takes the time to craft a beautiful and sexy item, complete with all the lace detail. Everything has always matched up, has great lighting and shadows to it. As always, Ms. Bridger has taken the plain Second Life texture and turned it into something magical. 
No matter what, they just make you feel soft, delicate, and sexy. Even the men's boxer set. I didn't want to wear it to be honest, I'm more of a leather and lace girl. Mom took the mouse from my hand, put my avatar in the set and we we both shocked at how sporty, smart, and sexy I looked in it. Amazing. I've never thought men's underwear as something that could be girly and sexy, but this is it. Thank you Ms. Bridger for not only caring about the knockers, but for making them look great in the process. A true 10/10 perfection as always!
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