Social Coin gets a Slut Ambassador

It was a strange time in my household, mostly for reasons that were not of my making, resulting in tensions around things that potentially could invade the house with their pernicious hold on my impressionable mind and their own inability to rationally distribute consequences to their own iniquities and cognitive biases, especially around gender. There was a fashion, a new fashion, for men to show their genitals as form of detente with women who had gotten so frustrated with male ineptitude that they staged a sex strike, en masse, something that was only rectified when men started showing their penises as a requisite to be able to talk to women. At first it was a stretch, a bit of a to do over it and now it’s an article of curiosity. Every one wants to know, did you see any penises? That was the main thrill, watching someone with their penis out because some were impressive and some, like his, were not. His argument (he wanted to be allowed to do so), was that he didn’t have much and so it was his own way of demonstrating his relative innocuity towards life that his little floundling penis wouldn’t garner much notice anyway.

Ahem. Actually. There was a neighbor woman who arranged to be over the night the discussion was getting heated and his guardian(s) looked at her in frustration (and a bit of snide wonder that this busybody church going frumpy had insinuated herself in a domestic conflict strictly for the Eros), finally telling me to do what I wanted to do. I just up and showed them and said it’s staying out for the duration.

Suzanne said “I think I can smell your penis” and I said, well, I’m sorry, but I can smell your vagina as well.

It was true. Along with a fad for showing your penis, there was an equally important movement for women to “waft” themselves in rooms, the smell of the vagina and the anus especially was prized as an aphrodesiac and a nod to our primal roots and the now endemic use of sexuality to solve social problems as it was mandated by the gray order of extras that had landed on the planet and now were impossible to distinguish in the populace such as they had managed to have mindsex to the extent that the phermones we enjoy were all to some degree being mediated by an alien presence that in turn had dictated that men were the bigger threat to the planet than women and therefore it was incumbent on men to show their innocuity and keep their penis out for some of the time, or most of the time, most of the time really, covered in some kind of translucent or see thru mesh that can be removed by hand or by using your mind to psychically open the latch; your mind as a browser is a new thing, as was social coin too, the currency that you could mine by making women come, that was something people were talking about. Suzanne looked guilty for a second and then said: I have some coins…

You do?

You do? My parent guardians gulped.

My penis started to get HARD. Suzanne noticed and got wetter. She was frumpy and her breath was raw as we went to other room to mine the coins. The baseline level of arousal checked out, enthusiastic consent or tolerable devolution of agency was consistent with local levels of attrition in the sense of “moments that pass on…with not much happening” and moments that “come alive” such as social porn was the notion of people you know watching you have sex and the sex itself was monetized in social coin. To mine the coin you had to exceed a certain level of arousal and be in the zone for long enough to unearth the valuation from the ionosphere and bio-imperative segments of the surrounding surfaces such as sensors were everywhere, including on our skin and so one lick was .4cn for a nipple, .7cn for a vagina, 1cn for an anus, .1 for a kiss, .5 for a lick of the penis and so she footed the bill on spec, hoping that the social porn would pay for itself as someone paid a flat fee for this to be broadcast as filler on the news now that violence has been relegated to entirely ceremonial and natural roles, sex being the dominant mode of self expression available to people who now are not averse to small arms and energy weapons but eschew nuclear arms in favor of drones and autonomous weapons platforms that roam the wild regions of the Earth and either get blasted by satellites or by the hyper drones sitting up in the ozone, waiting to see some enemy of opportunity. We don’t go outside much, and indeed, we travel in caravans to avoid being singled out and vaporized. Sex is as much to end the tension as it is to initiate some kind of social gain such as now that you can get money for being sexual (the technology has progressed to the point that you can get musk amplifying pills that will project the smell of your anus or vagina to epic proportions and literally zonk out men that smell it, it’s the god stuff, ambrosia of god, really, the way that Suzanne smelled between her legs, hairy thatch, making money licking her pussy and asshole, turning around and letting her lick my penis which meant that because she initiated it she was paying for it…at some point the back and forth becomes irrational and the system more or less mines as many coins as you mint and then looks for bonuses until the scene winds itself down or (as some people claim), the app suppresses your synapses and you cycle out of arousal and into some form of social intimacy with the people that you (don’t really know) but are fucking and also, the people watching you such as this has become a form of entertainment for people, if only to be assuaged that everyone is naked at some point; we certainly were and we made noises and created smells that were audible to the rest of the house. I made 52cn that night from Suzanne, which worked out to be about 100$ with a tip she gave me, so about 70$ give or take for how she had it programmed. She made about 600$ for her position in the social porn schemata, and also, her social gravity crossed with the difficulty of making the liaison happen and most crucially, did it contribute to collective arousal. People realized a long time ago that too much stimulus would burn out the cultural prerogative that spawned it and so sex became the panacea of choice, not just because the aliens decreed it but because we had gone so far in one direction that going the other way was actually quite easy. You just ceased to be what you once were or the expectations that you be what you once were became so relaxed you end up having sex with your frumpy middle aged menopausal neighbor who has a thing for you. Turns out, lots of people have things for me, as I discovered going back to school. Dicks were out everywhere, and my cute little thing got a lot of attention, mostly because everyone knew it didn’t stay that size and in fact, was short and thick, which is what people actually need to get off. So there is a purpose, even for the smaller in heft among us. Do mos men have big dicks? I can certainly admire what I don’t have; for me I said, I’m not selling my dick except I was, just not in so many words. I wanted to get good at oral and someone suggested I go to companion school in the fall, to learn how to be a consort and also protector of powerful women who need pliant but potent men in their camp. Potency comes in many forms and my body is not my strong point, it’s my mind. Or at least I don’t think I look anything special although people give me strange looks sometimes, unsettling looks, deep seeking searching looks like there is something about me they aren’t sure they are seeing and just want a couple more minutes to watch and find out what it is that bugs them so much. Yes, I bug people and at this age I’m not in control of my context enough to realize how intersected we are and how much I’m being observed and what it’s turned into after all this time. This started a long time ago, you know, well before I got here. I’m only fifteen right now, and yes I have a small(ish) penis but that’s okay. The wind thru your muff and the tickle on your scrotum when your hairs stand on end, the gentle waft of your anus and the animal endeavor that is such a creature of want and need and animal devotion to the most consistent form of release available. It was the release tabulated against the intensity of the arousal squared by the collective arousal as gleaned by other calculus that were so far obscure. I was happy with the money although I had to wonder what happens when you move up in Social Porn and what happens the next time I see Suzanne. That night my guardian came to my room and stood over me with her shirt pulled up above her waist, her genitals gleaming as she inveighed me to sniff her pussy and asshole and then lick the juice from one side to the other while she calmly intoned how it was going to be with her from now on. I couldn’t believe I was hearing this but she was actually stone cold jealous of Suzanne and more or less admitted it by pulling up her shirt to show me her ample breasts (refusing to let me suckle) and making me lick her smelly anus to soothe her jealousy…soon the male guardian got in on it too. I came home from school and he was irate with something I had done at school, not sure what because he was yelling at me and I wanted to smack him. To avoid hitting him I ran blindly down the road, running at top flight to avoid having to get into the car that was following after me at a patient, if notable distance. He finally coaxed me into the car by promising me social coin if I just put my mouth on his red domed penis and let him froth after a number of minutes. I minted and mined the coins and was surprised to get a 500$ social porn bonus after my offering spiked collective arousal by 15% in just one viewing. This was in ALL people that encountered it and so I was getting to know how the system worked so as to maximize both the money you made for being sexual but also how it affected the arousal of the people who were watching such as you wanted to avoid toxic arousal but also be guided by the notion that power arrangements are not equal and sexual sadism is partly culturally genetic and can be edited out in a few generations. That’s what they told us anyway. I felt like I was going to end up in sex slavery and that would be a death sentence for me once I got used up and could no longer satisfy the appetites of anyone. How long would that be before it happened?

I decided to organize and the idea of a slut ambassador and indeed, a slut takeover (like tenth century Rome where prostitutes took over governing while the papal office was out warring) became something to consider with all of the lucrative social porn we were producing and now, suddenly flush, weren’t about to let our lives be dictated by people who couldn’t cancel their own menace prior to the advent of hyper arousal and in turn, have to subsist with the fact that some people get a lot of touch and other people have to learn how to give it in order to get what they want in return. There were plenty of opt-outs. Lots of people said nope, that sex shit is too nuts. But they were turned on. And men literally were required to show their genitals at least part of the time as a means of creating social well being and ending sexual assault by men who are frustrated by the inability to convert any kind of attention they can give to women, into any kind of affection that they want. The market is just so traumitized by the lack of structural reforms…suddenly this new economic (and recession proof) mode opens up and people were wondering who these well meaning space aliens are (aliens so we were told, everyone sort of goes along with the alien shamans such as the et whisperers have notable ways of getting to the point, one fashion of course being dicks out for social justice or dicks out for humanity, my favorite).

My dick is out for humanity most of the time now and I couldn’t be happier. As a slut ambassador I had to represent slutty interests in all manner of my decorum and since I was in essence a public sex slave, the performative burden fell on me to make sure everything was going well or could go well for that matter. With those new anal bambs, you could amplify your scent to new levels of attraction and subjugation of your masculine (or feminine) prey, such as it was a competition of arousal vs release, so the intensity of the arousal squared by the depth of the release and thusly the empty space remaining in your psyche after the little death cleared out the junk your mind likes to hold onto in order to keep itself relevant to the body which just likes to relax and do what it’s doing. The mind is entropy the body is inertia and in the middle of that is your libido, constantly at odds with that of the collective understanding, which is that sex is offscreen and off limits for most people without some kind of pretense or suspect reason like a socially mandated relationship that had it’s own rules and it’s own set of precognitions that guided ritual congress. More to the point, there were individuals who were deemed so attractive that no one could sleep with them for the jealousy it provoked. That was in yesteryear; if they tried that today there would be a quizzcal huh? Are you opted out? Well just say so and then fuck out don’t stand around and dog if you can’t play you fuck

and that was usually that.

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