Red Light Center, un mondo virtuale a luci rosse

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red light center

Noi di IoChatto vi avevamo avvisato: le ultime tendenze dei social network sembrano essere sempre di più a luci rosse. Dopo il social porno di Zocku, ecco venir fuori un vero e proprio mondo virtuale per fare sesso in 3D. Si tratta di Red Light Center, una specie di Second Life erotico sviluppato dalla società di siti per adulti Utherverse.

Red Light Center è un mondo virtuale ambientato nel famoso Red Light District di Amsterdam dove si può giocare, fare nuove amicizie, farsi due risate, oppure passare a qualcosa di più sostanzioso come il sesso virtuale o cybersex. L’installazione e il funzionamento del software è simile a quello di Second Life, ma la registrazione è vietata a chi ha meno di 18 anni.

Gli utenti si dividono in “basic” (cioè free) e “Vip” (a pagamento). Gli utenti basic possono usufruire della chat 3D, visitare diversi ambienti e incontrare persone nuove. Gli utenti Vip invece, hanno la possibilità di acquistare capi d’abbigliamento più alla moda per il loro avatar, dispongono di una chat privata e hanno accesso a stanze più esclusive, come la sala interna del Night Candy, la discoteca dove è possibile dimenarsi con la lap dance e fare sesso virtuale.

Un mese da Vip costa 15 euro, e nel video che trovate subito dopo il “salto”, c’è un assaggio di ballo al Night Candy.  Unica pecca di questo e di tutti i mondi virtuali  per adulti, è che si può guardare, ma non toccare.

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    Savery recalls thinking: “She’s reading a book, so obviously can read the sign that says this is for prestige passengers only.”

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    “I didn’t say anything,” he says today. “And after a while, she got up and left without a word.”
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    Savery told them, no, he didn’t think he’d met a Giselle yet. The couple described her — tall, long hair.

    “I know who that is,” said Savery, realizing the description matched the woman he’d spotted sitting in the prestige class seat.

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    He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, instead sitting on the opposite side of the aisle from the mystery passenger: a woman with long curly hair, reading.

    Savery recalls thinking: “She’s reading a book, so obviously can read the sign that says this is for prestige passengers only.”

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    “I didn’t say anything,” he says today. “And after a while, she got up and left without a word.”
    Later that day, at dinner, Savery was sharing a table with a friendly couple, chatting about what prompted them to book The Canadian. Savery told them about losing his wife, about deciding to fulfill their shared dream, solo.

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    Savery told them, no, he didn’t think he’d met a Giselle yet. The couple described her — tall, long hair.

    “I know who that is,” said Savery, realizing the description matched the woman he’d spotted sitting in the prestige class seat.

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    He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, instead sitting on the opposite side of the aisle from the mystery passenger: a woman with long curly hair, reading.

    Savery recalls thinking: “She’s reading a book, so obviously can read the sign that says this is for prestige passengers only.”

    But he kept the slightly ungenerous thought to himself.

    “I didn’t say anything,” he says today. “And after a while, she got up and left without a word.”
    Later that day, at dinner, Savery was sharing a table with a friendly couple, chatting about what prompted them to book The Canadian. Savery told them about losing his wife, about deciding to fulfill their shared dream, solo.

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    Savery told them, no, he didn’t think he’d met a Giselle yet. The couple described her — tall, long hair.

    “I know who that is,” said Savery, realizing the description matched the woman he’d spotted sitting in the prestige class seat.

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    He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, instead sitting on the opposite side of the aisle from the mystery passenger: a woman with long curly hair, reading.

    Savery recalls thinking: “She’s reading a book, so obviously can read the sign that says this is for prestige passengers only.”

    But he kept the slightly ungenerous thought to himself.

    “I didn’t say anything,” he says today. “And after a while, she got up and left without a word.”
    Later that day, at dinner, Savery was sharing a table with a friendly couple, chatting about what prompted them to book The Canadian. Savery told them about losing his wife, about deciding to fulfill their shared dream, solo.

    “Have you met Giselle?” asked the couple, glancing at one another.

    Savery told them, no, he didn’t think he’d met a Giselle yet. The couple described her — tall, long hair.

    “I know who that is,” said Savery, realizing the description matched the woman he’d spotted sitting in the prestige class seat.

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