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A Virtual Sex Education

A Virtual Sex Education

this isn’t an ad.

this isn’t an ad.

Disclaimer: this article features course language and mature subject matter. But that warning didn’t stop you from watching late night cartoons underage, so why heed any warnings now?


As a child of the late 90’s/early 2000’s, I was raised during the rise of modern technology: cellphones, digital toys, and of course - the internet. The world wide web was la crème de la crème for a wide-eyed, curious and inappropriately horny kid. I grew up hooked on TV: Amazing Spider-man, Power Rangers, the Grim Adventures of Bill and Mandy. And in each show, I found myself furiously attracted to these animated characters. Perhaps it was because of all the sexually-crazed early 2000s comedies (American Pie, Euro Trip, Scary Movie) that I watched from a concerningly young age, a result of being the youngest of four kids - or it could have been that I discovered the pool jet at the age of seven and never looked back? Either way, the internet opened up a world of wonder for an inappropriately sexual kid.

At the time, I had absolutely no idea how sexual pleasure worked, so I just felt this intense desire to twist tongues with Jude from 6teen. Soon enough, everything was on the internet; the TV shows I loved had their own websites with photos, videos and best of all- games. I spent countless hours hunched over my desktop computer - one hand on the mouse, the other on a 2L bottle of Orange Crush and I would play every. Single. Game. Puzzles, rescue games, shopping games, missions- I loved it all. Not only did the internet allow me to see all these TV characters I pre-pubescently yearned for whenever I wanted, but I could actually be a part of their lives, and even interact with them virtually.

The minute I found the Scooby-Doo Shaggy’s crystal ball game on Cartoon Network, the game was changed forever. You’re telling me I could ask Shaggy whatever question I wanted, and he would answer it? Immediately: would you fuck me? Do you think I’m hot? What would you do to me? I want you so bad! For hours and hours, I would release my pent-up sexual frustration through this game, to which the oracle Shaggy would only respond - Yes! Maybe! No! Although I was hooked on the rush I would get through my body whenever he answered “yes”, it was just as disappointing as you would imagine whenever he answered “no”. I realized I was being rejected by a virtual Scooby-Doo character - but that didn’t stop this young internet slut from exploring more mature options.

Overlooked the uh.. questionable cultural connotations. ( source )

Overlooked the uh.. questionable cultural connotations. (source)

Later in my childhood, I was in a fully committed relationship with my pool jet. But when summer was over, what was I to do? I definitely did not understand the mechanics of my vagina, and its interaction with the jet. So, I resorted back to my good old friend: Internet Explorer.

Every hypersexual kid of the 2000s inevitably experienced the rejection of their overt sexuality, and mine, it was at Club Penguin. Following an incident where I asked a fellow penguin at the night club if he “wanted to go back to my igloo and fuck”, I was banned from my first multiplayer virtual world and began my search for another.

( source )

At the ripe age of 9 I discovered IMVU! The holy grail for horny people who are too young, too old, or too scared to actually communicate with others. Have you ever wanted to just full-on fuck over the internet, but not really at all? That’s IMVU for you. The seductive ads of big eyed, big-tittied animated women and ruggedly hot animated men that would pop up on my Myspace and Piczo fed my desire for what I thought was the epitome of sexual pleasure - the internet. I typed in my MSN address,, checked off the box stating that I was old enough to be on the site (I was not) and I was then plunged into a PG-14 style game with uncensored chat, a horny child’s dream!


Now, people can get freaked out about the fact that I most likely talked to several “hot teenage guys” who were probably middle-aged men, but it was a completely consensual double-catfish. I did not go online like “I’m 9, wanna fuck?” My pierogi-sized breasts and alarmingly developed birthing hips were not the image I wanted to share online - so I was a babe! Huge boobs, small ass (remembering this was the early 2000s), non-existent nose. Talking to “guys” online was never an issue, I was a confident animated hottie looking to project my sexual desires on others. This was a serious business - no funny games, I was there to fuck. Once I had invited my male suitor over to my virtual love pad, I would spew out every sexual phrase I knew which usually went something along of the lines of:

OhheyyViki: *bites lip*

OhheyyViki: Wanna fuck?

OhheyyViki: What are we? Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?

Since actual actions in the game were limited at the time, I would basically just walk circles around the guy and then say I came. I was a poet - a sexy wordsmith, a dirty talking Shakespeare.

These online games were a space of liberation for kids who were unable to express themselves in their environment, and an absolute goldmine for suburban Catholic school students like myself. The internet was there for me during my years of sexual development, from puberty to my first make out. It was always there to comfort me when I thought I was a pregnant virgin for most of my childhood and supported me through years of sexual curiosity.

For introducing me to the two greatest wonders of the world, social media and porn, I thank you, internet.


Victoria Gay is a friend of the mag and a featured guest writer for PUG! You can follow her on Twitter @skaterchicvik for more oddly explicit tweets.

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