Prologue
He was proud of the posting. After a long and distinguished career in the military, General Scott Hendrickson (Retired) had immediately accepted the President’s invitation to take on the new role of Anti-Pornography Czar. Indeed, the whole position was his idea, really—he’d come to view the explosion of video and internet pornography as a corrosive force as harmful and dangerous to American society as any military foe. And he’d missed no occasion to tell his close friend, the President, just how insidious the continuing sexualization of American life was. Why, it stood against everything that had made his beloved country great, and everything that he personally stood for—discipline, family, morality, respect for one’s self and for others.
The post was ceremonial, but between Hendrickson’s enormous energy and discipline, his close political connections, and his immense popularity with the American people, he felt he’d already begun to make an impact, just a few months into his new position. Stricter anti-porn laws were already working their way through local and Federal legislatures. Moreover, the public was beginning to buy into Hendrickson’s message that pornography was antithetical to a strong family and a dignified life. As a true and unblemished American hero, his “Just say no to porn” message was beginning to have a measurable effect on sales, rentals and online viewing of pornography. The multibillion-dollar porn industry was really beginning to sweat.
Still, Hendrickson was always in search of new allies and new avenues to the public. That’s why he was intrigued by the letter he’d received recently from Concerned Citizens Against Pornography, a new interest group which was offering liberal assistance to his efforts. He’d asked his staff to check into the group, but it was only a couple of months old, and had little track record. Still, a little research on the group’s founder, Bill Davos, showed that he definitely had the financial resources to make a difference, although the source of his wealth remained unclear, and Davos himself a cipher.
CCAP claimed great expertise in marketing and advertising, and had offered to create and distribute a series of high profile public interest advertisements against pornography, all at its own expense. The ads would range from short TV spots to much longer video presentations that could be used in schools, church groups and so on. All in all, it was a multimillion-dollar commitment, and it certainly got Hendrickson’s attention.
Enclosed with the letter was a CD-ROM containing an ad demo CCAP had already produced, targeted largely at young adults. Davos’ letter suggested that Hendrickson take a look at the demo and then contact him if he were interested in working together.
Hendrickson put the letter and CD aside temporarily to attend to his many other commitments. But at the end of the day, he picked up the disc, turned it over in his hand, then slid it into his computer. He was a bit tired, but he’d give it a look before leaving for the night.
Day One—Cumulative Viewing Time: Zero Hours
As the disc began whirring, his screen initially went black. Then the letters of CCAP slowly faded in. He noted briefly that they never seemed to become completely solid, shimmering slightly in a way that was somewhat disorienting—it was as if the letters kept coming in and out of focus just slightly. But then a voiceover began, shifting his attention and startling him slightly by its personal address.
“Hello General Hendrickson, and thank you for taking the time to view our demonstration. We hope you find it entertaining and informative.” The voice was female—low and confident.
The voice went on to describe America’s growing addiction to pornography, and CCAP’s mission to help every American understand just how subversive and consuming a habit pornography could become. It was quite repetitive with the letter, Hendrickson noted somewhat impatiently, though somehow less concise, containing a lot of unnecessary detail, empty sounding platitudes, and outright repetition. Between the slightly blurry lettering and the rambling of the voiceover, CCAP was not off to a good start. Still, there was no way to fast forward, so Hendrickson sat back a bit and waited out the introduction. He had to admit, the woman’s voice itself was pleasant enough to listen too—feminine and melodious, yet nonetheless authoritative. He found himself reflecting more on the cadence of her voice than on the words themselves.
After quite some time, the woman’s voice turned to the demo he was about to see, noting that it was one of their longer promos, aimed at college students and young adults. Since it was designed for a young, cynical audience, it strove for realism, straight talk, and vernacular language—even if this meant an uncommon degree of explicitness. And to apply to a short-attention span generation, it relied on images, sound bytes, and high production values. Hendrickson nodded in a slightly absentminded way, letting the words wash over him. The concept seemed to make sense.
Finally, after a seeming eternity, the promo itself began. The screen faded back to black, then small glittering stars appeared, pulsating slightly at different intervals. A rhythmic baseline and beat began playing softly, followed quickly by a different woman’s voice—faster, more urgent, than the first: “The proliferation of pornography in America is truly astounding.”
Magazine covers featuring buxom, scantily clad women began flashing on the screen—Playboy flashing to Penthouse flashing to Hustler and so on.
“Over 240 monthly magazines, 53 adult video producers, and hundreds of completely unregulated websites sell sexual fantasy to American men each year.”
Flash.
“From mainstream publications and sites showing standard T&A shots...”
Flash
“To racially focused media specializing in Blacks...”
Flash
“Asians...”
Flash
“and Latinas...”
Flash
“to fetish media focused on long legs...”
Flash
“big tits”
Flash
“and leather-clad mistresses.”
Flash
“A special temptation for every conceivable fantasy.”
Flash
Flash
Flash
The images came rapidly, indicating the sheer volume of pornographic materials available. Magazine, video and website covers and teasers mostly—nothing hardcore, but all extremely revealing. The staccato bursts of light reflected off of Hendrickson’s eyes. He’d slumped back into his seat a bit more, his legs spreading slightly.
Eventually, the barrage of images ended, and the presentation shifted to two blonde women sitting across from one another on a talk show set, chairs angled out toward the viewer. Both were dressed in short cocktail dresses, slightly risqué in their cut. Their bodies filled out the dresses as few women can—firm flesh swelling and curving magnificently beneath the sheer silk.
“Hi, I’m Bunny Mounds, and this is Bitsy Bare. We’re former porn stars, and we’re here to warn you about the perils of watching porn.”
Bitsy nodded and crossed her legs, momentarily revealing the top of her thigh-highs. She turned to the camera. “What porn companies don’t want you to know is how easily a quick look can turn into an all-consuming obsession.” She tousled her long, blond hair.
“Exactly, Bitsy. The temptation of lush young bodies is often just too much to resist. It’s hard for anyone not to start thinking about all the things they’d like to do to the girls in front of them. Pretty soon, the fantasy crowds out all other thoughts.”
“Mmm hmmm. Work, family, morality... it all just fades away in the face of sexual need.”
And so the conversation went—sound bites passed quickly between the two women, one nodding slowly while the other turned deep blue eyes toward the camera.
Time passed. Hendrickson was staring slack-jawed at the screen, nodding slightly along with Bitsy and Bunny. For some reason he wasn’t following the two women’s conversation very well. They kept smoothing their skirts, recrossing their legs, and twirling their hair in a very distracting manner. He was very tired, somehow, yet his gaze never wavered from the screen. From time to time, bits of the conversation would come into focus for him.
“...That’s right Bunny. Once we’ve got you staring at our big bouncy tits and hot little pussies, we’ve got you right where we want you. You just can’t stop watching... and wishing.”
“No Bitsy, pretty soon all men get lost in a pair of hot tits. It’s what nature intended.”
“MMMMM. Exactly, Bunny. Once a man’s cock is nice and hard, he’s at our mercy.”
“You said it.” Bunny leaned forward toward the camera, staring intently and punctuating her words—“A Hard Cock Makes for a Soft Mind...”
In these moments, Hendrickson had a sense that something wasn’t right. Was it the language they were using? Or the tone of the conversation, which seemed almost mocking? Or was it the insistent tingling in his groin? He couldn’t quite get his thoughts to coalesce, however, and soon the conversation, and his concerns, slipped from his mind again.
“...And now that the internet’s in every office, porn’s becoming a real problem at work, too.”
“It sure is, Bitsy. After all, what man would rather push paper around when he could be watching me sucking cock and playing with myself?”
Bitsy nodded and laughed. Hendrickson’s lips, parted slightly, turned up into a small smile. His eyes were heavily lidded, pupils dilated slightly and fixed on the screen.
In and out of focus. Moments of concern overwhelmed by a foggy lassitude. So it went for over an hour.
He found himself staring at the black screen of his computer. He was unsure how long he’d been sitting since the presentation had ended. As he slowly came back to himself, he began to register a deep concern about Davos’ video. His memory—usually quite sharp—was somewhat jumbled, and he had a hard time piecing together the whole of the message. But many of the parts he did remember seemed wildly inappropriate.
With characteristic decisiveness, Hendrickson immediately dug out the contact number supplied in Davos’ letter and picked up the phone. He’d tell them exactly what he thought of the video and be done with it. That he was calling at 9:00 PM didn’t occur to him.
A woman with a deep, husky (strangely familiar) voice answered the call immediately, introducing herself as Melanie Whitford, Davos’ assistant. She asked Hendrickson to hold for Davos. Music played as he waited. And waited.
Finally, the woman’s voice returned, startling Hendrickson somewhat. She said that Davos couldn’t talk now, but would meet him at his office first thing tomorrow morning. Hendrickson’s had been daydreaming—most unlike him—while waiting, and was having trouble pulling himself back to the matter at hand.
“Um. Meet?”
“Yes, General. About your partnership. The video series.” Her voice was so, breathy, somehow.
“Oh. Um. Right, the video.” Why was he so tongue-tied? “I watched the video. I found it, well... " Unbidden, an image of firm, milky thighs encased in garters appeared in his mind, lifting and crossing slowly. “... crass. And maybe... um...” He trailed off feebly.
“Why General Hendrickson, whatever could you mean? How was it crass?” Her voice confident, a touch indulgent.
“Well. There were all those... um...”
“General. I think you should meet with Mr. Davos. I’m sure we can work out any differences in person. How’s 9:00 tomorrow morning?”
“Um, no. I just wanted to tell him...”
“Yes, you can tell him tomorrow. We’ll be there at 9:00 sharp—I know you’re a stickler for punctuality, aren’t you?”
“What? Um. Well, yes, I am...”
“Good, then it’s settled. 9:00 AM sharp. And General, if I might suggest,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “you seemed to be grasping a bit to describe our educational video. I’m sure you’d have better comments to make if you gave it another viewing before we arrived. Just so it’s fresh in your mind. I know you’ll want to be as incisive as possible in whatever criticisms you might have.”
He had to admit, she had a point. On the other hand, he thought, why waste time on something he’d already made up his mind about? He considered, as the image of Bitsy subtly licking her lips floated through his head. “Yes. I’ll do that.”
“Very gooood, General. Watch the video. And listen to the message. Watch... and... listen. Listen and watch. I’m sure you’ll be glad you did. Goodnight.”
Yes. He liked to watch. He shook his head abruptly. “Ahem. Um, yes. Goodnight then.”
He set the phone in its cradle slowly, and absently looked at his watch. How late it had gotten. He should really get home to his wife. Maybe just one more look at the presentation first, though. After all, he wanted to be prepared for the meeting.
Day 2—Cumulative Viewing Time: Four Hours, Thirty Minutes
Hendrickson greeted Bill Davos with blood-shot eyes and an uncharacteristically limp handshake. He’d been through the video presentation twice more since agreeing to the appointment. Once right after he’d hung up the phone, and once early that morning. Sandwiched in between the viewings had been a short and fitful night’s sleep. He’d woken several times with a start, covered in sweat—as he’d often done earlier in life just before battle, or in other times of imminent danger. Of course, those other times he hadn’t awoken with a raging erection.
Davos was a somewhat greasy sort, paunchy and rumpled, with a fleshy, smug face. Hendrickson felt a twinge of dislike immediately—he looked like the kind of fellow that really let himself go. Davos introduced his assistant, Melanie Whitford, who clicked in behind him on six-inch heels, making her just slightly taller than Hendrickson himself. Hendrickson’s eyes widened briefly as he contemplated her business suit. Barely even professional, he thought. Extremely short, slit skirt revealing long, tapered legs. Blouse cut low to reveal full, high breasts. Long black hair cascading down behind her, accentuating her narrow waist.
“....General? General?”
“Hmmn?” Startled, he jerked his eyes from the swell of Ms. Whitford’s breasts, where they’d somehow settled, over to Davos.
“I said, shall we sit, General?”
His face flushed red, and he stammered his assent, trying to sound brisk and businesslike.
The meeting went much as the phone call had the night before. He’d intended to nip Davos’ “partnership” offer in the bud. But Davos kept interrupting, asking questions he had difficulty answering, repeating that if he’d just hear them out—just listen—they were sure he’d agree they offered him a compelling partnership. He felt small and weak, and couldn’t seem to find a voice for his objections. He tried to focus on Davos, but Melanie kept fidgeting—first dangling a shoe and bobbing her foot, then bending forward to massage her calf briefly, next nibbling slightly on her pen—thick, glossy lips working it gently. It seemed that every time he was ready to open his mouth, she shifted somehow, causing him to glance over, then studiously look away. In between, his thought seemed to evaporate.
Davos was long-winded anyway, and he found it hard to get a word in. It was easier just to listen for a while. And watch. Listen and watch. Hendrickson’s posture in his chair slowly changed from aggressive to passive, slumping a bit. His gaze flitted more frequently to Melanie’s legs, and breasts, and lips, lingering longer as well. Maybe he’d been unfair to her. After all, fashions were a bit more revealing these days, and he couldn’t blame her for staying current. Davos began to seem a bit less smug and flip as well, his argument more... compelling somehow. And his own objections less important. Nothing wrong with a little skin here and there, in service to the right purpose. No. Nothing wrong with a little skin.
He was staring at her openly now. She’d let her skirt ride up just a little, and her legs weren’t crossed anymore. And had an extra button come undone on her blouse? The lacy top of her bra was clearly visible, her ripe breasts virtually bursting out of it. Bursting. The word settled in his mind, and he began to become aware of himself again. Bursting. He shifted uncomfortably. Though his eyes didn’t move, his attention shifted away from Melanie Whitford’s chest, and to his own lap. He realized to his dismay that his cock was practically bursting. He couldn’t remember being so hard in years—he felt like he might actually come if he moved too suddenly. He quickly yanked his gaze back to Davos, who was looking at him expectantly, an unctuous smile on his face.
“So we’re agreed, then?”
“Um. Agreed?” He had to get them out of his office immediately. Had to calm down. Jesus, what had he been thinking??
“Agreed. You’ll review our whole promotional series, take some notes, give us feedback. We’ll change anything you don’t like. And then we’ll start really educating the nation!” He preened and grabbed his lapel. Out of the corner of his eye, Hendrickson could swear he saw Melanie slouching down her chair further, and spreading her legs slightly. Was her hand drifting to her thigh?
“Agreed,” he said quickly, focusing hard on Davos. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t get up—I expect you can find your way out.”
“Not at all,” Davos smirked. “Melanie, did you bring the second promo for the General?”
“Mmmm hmmmm.” She stood slowly, crossed toward him, and after fishing briefly in her brief case, bent across his desk to hand him another CD. “I’m just so sure you’ll like this one, General,” she said indulgently. Jesus, he thought. Her tits were so close to popping out. He was so close to...
“Um yes, well. I’ll give it my undivided attention.”
“I’m sure you will, General. Call me once you’ve watched to get instruc... I mean, to talk it over.”
She sauntered out of the office, hair swinging gently in counterpoint to the movement of her ass. Hendrickson simply sat there for several seconds, trembling slightly, light-headed, as if all the blood in his brain had rushed to his, well...
He took a long swig of mineral water to steady himself, then tried to get back to work. He was still agitated, though, and tired, and distracted, all at once. The CD Melanie had given him was sitting on the corner of his desk, expectantly. He knew he had more important things to attend to, but he wasn’t having a very effective morning anyway. And he’d said he’d look at it, give CCAP another chance. Maybe just a quick look. He popped it in.
As they slid into the back of Davos’ limo, his assistant turned to him, her face breaking into the grin she’d been suppressing. “I can’t believe the effects he’s beginning to show after just a couple of viewings. And the passivity—I was practically stripping in there, and he just sat, watching.” She laughed acidly. “I actually thought he was going to drool for a second. This guy is the moral authority of the nation?”
Davos smirked. “Yes. It was encouraging, wasn’t it? But then, we need to move him along quickly. If the transition is too slow, his family or his colleagues will see it, and intervene. Anyway, what did you glean about his... preferences?”
“He’s a tit man—disorientation and pliability far highest when I focused him on my chest. Though he may have a latent oral fixation as well.”
“Very good. Adjust the videos accordingly.”
“I will. His secretary’s definitely with us?”
“Happily, she doesn’t suffer from Fellow’s priggish self-righteousness—Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the cash. Life is so much easier when you can just bribe people outright.”
“Sure makes you long for the old Administration, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, and get this. The good General is a hydration nut. He apparently goes through about a gallon of mineral water a day, just to ‘keep the pipes running right.’ I mean, you couldn’t ask for a better set-up. She’s already started lacing it with Viagra and a mild narcotic—she’ll build that up gradually. Not that your charms wouldn’t be enough, my dear, but we also had the wonders of modern chemistry on our side today.”
Melanie laughed again. “Excellent.”
“She’s also been clearing his calendar. As of tomorrow, he’ll have all day every day just to sit in his office with a hard dick, and lowered inhibitions, looking at dirty pictures and listening to your lovely voice....”
Time passed strangely for Hendrickson that day. At his desk, trying to do work, he was restless, irritated, unable to concentrate. Minutes passed like hours. The video beckoned, and not once but several times he slid the CD into his computer, intending a skeptical, analytic viewing. And each time great holes appeared in his day, Hendrickson emerging from them with only scattered recollections. Yet somehow, developing a really critical view of the presentation seemed less important as the day went on. The things that had upset him... what were they?... well, they seemed to fade somehow. He was developing a growing conviction that this was a valuable project, one that deserved his attention. Yes, it richly deserved all the attention he could lavish on it.
Over the next several days, a new CD arrived at Hendrickson’s office first thing each morning, continuing the series. He noticed the titles only vaguely in his haste to get to work viewing them:
- Part 3—How Porn Starts to Disrupt Your Sleep and Invade Your Dreams
- Part 4—Why Men Find Thinking with the Little Head is So Much More Fun
- Part 5—Appetite Begets Appetite: How Porn Creates the Desire for Ever-More-Frequent Sexual Stimulation
- Part 6—Losing Touch with Socially Acceptable Behavior
- Part 7—Developing Extreme Fetishes
- And finally, Part 8—The Slippery Slope: From Porn Surfing to Whoremongering
Day Four—Cumulative Viewing Time: Fifteen Hours
Hendrickson had installed a program, provided with the morning’s CD, to allow the CD to loop continuously on his screen. That way, he could turn between the presentation and other work easily without ultimately missing anything. Though he seldom actually turned away.
He failed to notice that Bitsy and Bunny’s outfits had become far more revealing over the first few presentations, their caresses and strokes of their lips, their legs, and—especially—their increasingly bare tits less and less subtle. Or rather, his mind, already well addled, failed to notice. His cock noted the changes perfectly. And it strained with approval.
Day Five—Cumulative Viewing Time: Twenty-Four Hours
Bitsy and Bunny were starting to provide short “demonstrations” of the kinds of poses and acts that porn sites typically featured. Hendrickson’s pants piled around his ankles as he sat in his chair. He’d begun masturbating regularly to the videos. He’d come to the conclusion that there was simply no way around it. After all he had a job to do, and he couldn’t very well do it with his dick standing at attention. After all, he thought, a hard cock makes for a soft mind. So he did what he had to. He had to admit it wasn’t so bad...
Day Seven—Cumulative Viewing Time: Forty Hours
After several aborted starts, he’d finally logged on to a porn site that Bitsy and Bunny kept mentioning in the videos—the one they’d used to be featured on. He’d resisted the urge at first, but Melanie—in what had become a daily phone call—had also recommended it. After all, she’d suggested, to beat the enemy, you really had to know the enemy. Hendrickson couldn’t have said it better himself.
Still, as he typed in the address, a light current of guilt and apprehension began to wind its way up through his mind. Something was wrong with this. For a moment, as the site was loading, he saw himself as an observer might—puffy-faced and slack-jawed, huddled eagerly at the computer, naked below the waist. But then his computer finished connecting to the site, and a wave of beautiful, sinful flesh unfurled on the screen before him, quickening his pulse and driving these thoughts away. His hand crept back to his cock, which it had seldom left of late.
The interactive girls were featured prominently—a small group of them, but all stunning. Perfect tits, thrust up toward the camera, on each and every one. It didn’t take him long to furtively double click on one of them, taking her up on her offer to see her live.
She looked into the camera—seemingly right at him—intently. “What can I do for you today, General?”
It didn’t register that she’d addressed him personally. But nonetheless he hesitated once more. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. This was different than watching an educational video after all.
His hands crept to the keyboard, and quickly typed out, “Play with your pussy.” He paused, then tapped enter.
Her smile widened and her legs spread out for him. “Of course, General. I’ll do anything you want. Now why don’t you put your hand on your cock, and let me tell you what I want you to do...”
Day Nine—Cumulative Viewing Time: 68 Hours
Davos opened the file Melanie had passed him, and turned back to her again. “How’s he progressing?”
“Very well. He’s completely pliant now. Having him on the website has been a great accelerator of the changes.”
“And are the, shall we say, range of his interests expanding?”
That was slow at first. But the girls have been coaxing him along whenever he’s logged in on them. Now he’s spending about 25% of his time on the fetish portions of the site.”
“Very good. He’s ready, then. Put out the call.”
Day Ten—Cumulative Viewing Time: 84 Hours
Hendrickson showed up at the CCAP headquarters at 3:00 sharp, as he’d promised. He’d had almost no human contact in days, having been “working” almost around the clock, and sleeping on his office sofa. When Melanie had called and said she wanted to meet, he’d been somewhat reluctant to leave his computer screen, and had tried to delay. But, as always, she was deeply convincing. Besides, the sound of her voice called up images of his first meeting with her, and he had to suppress a small shiver of anticipation as he walked into the reception area.
Music played as the receptionist—a stunning redhead in a tight, low-cut shirt—told him to take a seat. Where he waited. And waited.
Finally Melanie came out, and with little introduction, asked him—told him, really—to follow. He stood silently, then walked after her, closely watching as her ass swing sensually back and forth. Her micro skirt lifted a little with each step, giving him a tantalizing peek at her firm, round cheeks. He hadn’t masturbated in hours, and was starting to feel awfully horny.
He followed her into a studio, not that he noticed at first—he would have followed that tail anywhere without really caring. But then he heard the giggling, and looked up, to Melanie’s left.
There they were. Bitsy and Bunny, in the flesh, not twenty feet away. Barbie doll porn stars in tiny little thongs, stretched lazily on a king-sized bed. Video cameras sat perched around them, whirring softly.
“Welcome, General. We’ve been waiting soooo long for you.” Bitsy’s deep blue eyes pierced his.
“Mmmmmn. We could barely contain ourselves.” They started to strip each other, tops peeled off slowly, bikini bottoms pulled up over raised legs, past platform heels.
He fought out a question to Melanie. “What... what’s going on here?” His words sounded feeble, even to him. They lacked the moral indignation he’d meant to give them.
Melanie mocked him gently. “Can’t you tell, General? We’re making a porno movie. You know all about those, don’t you?”
“No. But you’re... You’re supposed to be...” Bitsy slithered across the bed and kissed Bunny wetly. Their eyes never left him.
“What? We’re supposed to be warning people away from porn? I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that, isn’t it General?”
He was starting to feel light-headed. In fact, he could practically feel the blood rushing directly from his brain to his rapidly hardening cock. Such a wonderful sensation. His field of vision seemed to close in on the nubile blondes before him, becoming his world. He continued to hear Melanie’s voice, but was barely aware of the words anymore.
“No, General. The porn industry is just too big, too powerful to stop. It’s got too much of a following. Let’s face it, who can resist watching kinky, oversexed bimbos playing with themselves? Hmmm?”
Sweat had begun to break out on Hendrickson’s brow. His legs were trembling.
“Who doesn’t fantasize about fucking two hot blondes at once?”
Hendrickson licked his lips nervously. He pictured himself between them, their supple skin pressing against him urgently.
“It’s the perfect product, General. The Perfect Product.”
“Perfect product,” he mumbled absently.
Bunny had produced a bottle of baby oil, and the two began to lather each other, hands running across glistening breasts, wandering down flat stomachs, and below. They were beginning to moan softly.
“The power of porn is too hard to resist.”
“Too haaard. Hard.” His cock strained towards the bed.
Bitsy bent to flick a tongue across Bitsy’s erect nipple, while Bitsy rubbed her clit. They stared at him hungrily.
“And if you can’t beat them, join them.”
“Join them.”
“Yes, General, join them.”
“Join them.” Something seemed to crack inside his head, like a shell being broken and shed, and where he had felt tension and hesitancy, a beautiful clarity emerged. Join them. Yes. Never had an idea seemed so utterly right. His cock urged his legs forward, and was quickly rewarded with skilled caresses as he reached the bed. Bunny and Bitsy’s practiced hands quickly shed him of his clothes, and their tongues began their work.
He eagerly responded to their whispers and ministrations, his body sliding and slipping between theirs, electric pleasure erupting and lingering wherever a tongue, a hand, a breast had caressed him. Firm flesh seemed to slide all around him, teasing and tormenting, until finally the movements of the blondes became more purposeful and rhythmic. Supple thighs encased him, engulfed him. He floated on an ocean of pleasure, rolling this way and that at their command.
Eventually he found himself positioned directly in front of one of the cameras, his cock pounding into Bitsy’s tight pussy as Bunny pumped a well-oiled finger in and out of his ass, her tongue darting into his ear. His orgasm built with great power and speed, and it wasn’t long before he was grunting out each great spurt of come, his face contorted around dull glassy eyes, staring unseeing—uncaring—at the camera lens.
As the waves of pleasure began to recede, a final, tiny remnant of his addled mind began to refocus, and as his gaze moved from the banquet of firm flesh below him to the camera lens directly in front, the reality of what he’d done began to tug faintly at his consciousness. But Bitsy and Bunny’s hands and mouths kept moving—teasing and tempting. Tugging him back into a world where pleasure was the only imperative. Soon he was lost in a new and even deeper rhapsody, blissfully unaware of the whirring of the camera, or the whispers of the women, burrowing deeply into his wide-open mind.
Epilogue
Only a handful of hard-core porn aficionados saw the first live, streaming video of General Hendrickson’s debut. But it didn’t take long for word to get around, and for the media to pounce. Within 48 hours a tidal wave of surfers and tuned in to the good General’s introduction to the joys of nipple rings and butt plugs.
Many of them had never spent any time looking at internet porn before. They checked the site out of disbelief, or outrage at governmental hypocrisy, or the strange fascination for a hero’s fall from grace. Few merely surfed in and out, as they’d intended, however. Though sad, the human drama was simply difficult to tune out. As were—a few admitted to themselves—the sights and sounds of Bitsy and Bunny hard at work. Besides, the background music and the faint pulsing of the screen border had an oddly soothing effect...
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