How I Pretend to Work: Guns, Drugs, and Madness

Last Updated on: 12th January 2026, 02:29 am

I’ve been on my bi-monthly “pretend to work” kick again. It’s a simple routine. I show up, I boss Tanya around, I sling some illegal contraband, I shoot a few guns at random passersby, and then I disappear back into the void before anyone asks difficult questions like “Where is the profit?”

It’s been fun, but let’s not act like I’m running a tight ship here. For those who don’t know me, I’m Aria. My whole story started when I was a Senra avatar with a single, completely insane goal: go full mesh without spending a single Linden. The only loophole was wishlist gifts, but only if I traded sex for them. I hit that goal faster than expected (turns out men really like paying for things), and once I did, things spiralled.

I became an X-Girl. I managed the bar in Gutter Trash Alley. I got ass-fucked by Santa (don’t ask). I took over the bar on X-Sisters Street. Then, naturally, I started a cyborg army with Mel, my best friend and business partner in crime.

Now? We run a Cartel. We operate out of the X-Sisters sim, selling the best drug system in Second Life. We even brought Tanya on board to help out, mostly so I have someone to yell at. It was a shitshow, but it worked.

Then, Mel vanished for four months, leaving me holding the bag. But now she’s back. And it feels like we’ve lit the fuse on a bomb that is definitely going to explode in our faces.

The Sniper Release & The Return of Mel

The first release in our Gun Product Line is finally on the way: The Sniper. I’m ridiculously excited about it. I was sitting up on my “Cartel Cloud” (don’t ask) when I saw the group notice. Mel had arrived on sim. Oh, fuck!

I ran straight down to the bar, and there she was, looking like she’d never left. We celebrated her return with whiskey, our own blend obvs, Mel & Aria’s (buy it, you cowards) and immediately roped Eve into selling drugs for us so we could slack off.

Then it was time to field-test the sniper.

Target: Chandra.
Consent: Optional.

With a .338 Lapua Magnum in the mix, saying “no” wasn’t really an option for her. We shot her in the head. When she had the nerve to be pissed about it, we escalated. We borrowed Jess’s battleship and blew her house to pieces.

Chandra didn’t take it lying down. She cursed Mel with some weird deform spell, turning her into a unicorn. That shit wasn’t cool, but we rolled with it. If she was going to be a mythical creature, she was going to be the best damn mythical creature on the grid.

A Conservative Trip to Jomo

Mel made me dress “conservatively” for our trip to Jomo, which felt weird. I usually let my tits do the talking. The mission: Find Mel a better unicorn avatar. The result: Failure.

There weren’t any good unicorns, but Jomo is great for furry stuff. I almost caved and bought a fox avatar. The temptation was real. But after my cyborg phase, I’ve been trying to rein it in. I know how this goes. Mel and I would’ve ended up building a militarized Fox Farm within a week. I cannot be trusted with new hobbies.

Just as I made peace with not being a fox, our friend Fox showed up. Not the avatar, the person. Confusion. Yes. I stuck around for a bit, but my sleepy genes were kicking in. It was time to solve that problem the only way I know how.

High Aria, Horny Aria, and Definitely Not Productive Aria

After a quick nap on the job (classic employee behavior), I dragged myself back down to the store. The plan was to stock shelves. The reality was I perched myself on the cashier’s desk, lit a joint, and got comfortably high for 45 minutes.

When a customer finally walked in, I was immediately thankful for my sunglasses. My eyes must’ve screamed “stoned out of my fucking mind.” Here’s the thing, though. High Aria is Horny Aria.

Somewhere between sizing him up as a potential gun buyer and enjoying the buzz, my hand decided it had other plans. It landed right on his abs.. toned as fuck, by the way.. and started roaming. He wasn’t complaining. In fact, the bulge forming in his pants suggested he was very much on board with this new customer service policy.

Ever the professional, I invited him upstairs to the office. Once we got there, I didn’t bother with small talk. I bent over the desk, wiggling my ass in his direction. He wasted no time. He gripped my waist and slammed into me with a force that rattled the office desk.

FUCK. We went at it rough. His cock stretched me out, pulsing inside me as I clenched around him. The warmth, the pressure, the weed, it all blurred into a frenzy. When he was ready to blow, I dropped to my knees and let him unload straight down my throat.

After he left, zipping up his pants and looking very satisfied, I realized something. I forgot to sell him a gun. Whoops.

Protests, Soul-Stealing, and Cocaine

Sometimes I just hang out in the office to look busy. If someone walks in, I put on my “Business Voice” and say things like, “Hold on, I’m just dealing with this shipment from Columbia.” It makes me seem legit, even though I’m usually just shopping for shoes.

That routine got interrupted when Chandra burst in, ranting about the UK ID Verification Law. For context: Chandra is German. She was protesting a UK law. In a fake drug cartel office. In a video game. I just nodded along.

Then Mel showed up, and naturally, we decided to try stealing Chandra’s soul. Because what else do you do on a Tuesday? Our scheming got interrupted by Huckus, a bar regular who wandered into the store looking for trouble. The result? Huckus got talked into doing cocaine, Mel joined him, I got high as fuck on weed, and Chandra started singing “Fuck me in the ass because I love Jesus.”

Just another normal day at the office.

When Selling Takes a Wicked Turn

Every now and then, I actually try to do my job and make a sale up in the office. But usually, that’s just an excuse to get a little wicked and play with someone who doesn’t know what they’re walking into. Recently, I got the perfect opportunity.

A guy I matched with on a dating app showed up to “check out the store.” He was cute, eager, and clearly trying to impress me. Seizing the opportunity, I led him upstairs to the private office, locking the door behind us.

He started browsing the room and his eyes landed on a small blue bottle labeled “Viagra.” Except, surprise, it wasn’t Viagra. It was a prototype batch of our latest cartel product disguised as performance enhancers. Insert evil laugh here.

“Does that actually work?” he asked, picking it up. I leaned against the desk, shooting him my best seductive smirk. “It’s better than the real thing. It keeps you hard for hours, but you have to be able to handle the intensity. Think you can handle it?”

Hook, line, and sinker. His ego took over. He popped the cap and swallowed a pill dry without even asking for water. It took exactly ten seconds for it to kick in. I watched his posture change, his eyes glazing over as the high hit him like a freight train. He swayed slightly, grinning like an idiot, effectively turning into putty in my hands.

I walked over and pushed him down into the leather office chair. “Now,” I purred, stepping between his spread legs. “You better last, because I am not in the mood for a quickie.” He nodded dumbly, his hands gripping the armrests, his knuckles white. “Yes, mistress.”

I didn’t waste time with a striptease. I pulled my shorts down and climbed right into his lap. I spat into my hand, slicking him up, and guided his rock-hard cock to my entrance. He was twitching, the drug making him hypersensitive. I sank down slowly, taking every inch of him until my ass was resting against his thighs. He let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking involuntarily, but I dug my nails into his shoulders to hold him down.

“Sit,” I commanded. “I do the work.”

I rode him hard, setting a punishing pace. I could feel him throbbing inside me, the drug keeping him unnaturally hard even as I ground against him. Every time he looked like he was about to break, I leaned forward and whispered threats in his ear. “Don’t you dare. I cum first. If you cum before me, I’m shooting you.”

He begged. He actually whimpered, his hands gripping my hips, trying to hold on. “Please, Aria… please…” “Not yet,” I gasped, throwing my head back as the friction built to a breaking point.

I made him wait until I was shaking, crying out, and completely spent, my inner muscles clamping down on him in a violent orgasm. Only then, while I was riding the aftershocks, did I whisper, “Now.”

He exploded instantly. He groaned my name, filling me up with pump after pump of warm, sticky cum, dumping a massive load deep inside me. We sat there for a long time, just breathing, the smell of sex and sweat filling the small office.

It was intense. It was hot. It was perfect. He eventually stumbled out, still high, a dopey smile on his face.

Except for one little problem. I looked at the cash register. I forgot to charge him for the drugs.

Mel is going to kill me.

Living My Best Life, One Day at a Time

So that’s where things stand. I pretend to work. I have a lot of sex. I forget to sell anything. And I live my absolute best life.

“No one would have believed, at the start of my life as a Senra avatar,
That I would rise from pixelated beginnings to the cartel I now command.
No one could have imagined that my modest ambitions-
To become full mesh without spe…”

Oops. Got carried away there. I’ve been listening to Jeff Wayne’s “The Eve of the War” and clearly got too into it.

Who knows what’s next? Maybe I’ll head back up to my cartel cloud and let the world burn for a bit. All I know is that Mel is back, the Sniper is coming, and the store is stocked.

Come hang out at Mel & Aria’s Drug & Gun Store. Buy some drugs. Pick up a gun. Get high. And who knows, maybe we’ll end up having sex in the office while I forget to charge you.

Now, where the fuck are my shorts?