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Claire’s Cunt Kitchen (An “Alison” Christmas Special) – Part Two

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Before the Great Enlightenment of the 2020s, European society had a dysfunctional, nay, a schizophrenic attitude to fucking. On the one hand, both men and women favoured what society called “sexual liberation”, i.e. the right of anyone to fuck whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted, without any attendant responsibilities or obligations. On the other hand, society claimed to value what was called “the family”: men and women who fucked each other and conceived children by that act were expected to stick together to raise said children. It can be hard for us, in this Enlightened and Reconstructed Age, to imagine what a massive stress this dichotomy put on individuals and societies.Alison lay naked on her bed in her student room at Fuckers’ Hall. It was the first morning of her course, and she had got up early, partly out of sheer excitement, and partly to do a bit of pre-course reading before heading into the Academy. She had had breakfast, taken a shower, and shaved her pussy (turning her rectangular landing-strip into a triangular one in the process – just for variety), and was now enjoying exposing it to fresh air, as had always been her habit at home. As she browsed through some of her assigned pre-course bibliography, she lazily traced a moistened finger up and down her slit. She wasn’t masturbating as such, just passing time. None of the textbooks were particularly sexy, but Alison had always been a studious type, and so she attacked A Brief History of Fucking by Professor Emma Jane Cuntslicker with determination.Few people, whether they leaned towards the “liberal” or the “family” side of the argument, actually thought the issue through to its logical conclusions. Those who wanted to fuck freely had to contend with the biological issue, which is that in Unreconstructed man, fucking (despite the rather pathetic medical interventions called, in those days, “contraception”) made babies: pursuit of personal pleasure therefore led inexorably to the curtailment of personal pleasure – either of the parents who were forced to accept responsibility for the offspring they had conceived, or of the children who might be rejected by their parents, whether in utero or post partum. Neither side of the argument was able to face the fact – now blindingly obvious to us – that the only solution would be to completely and radically separate the pleasure of fucking from responsibility for family.The journey down from Cunthorpe the day before had been great fun. Alison had istanbul travesti fucked her first ever black dick, and had clearly pleasured its owner – to the extent that she had found it very hard to shake him off when the train pulled in at King’s Cock Station in the evening. He had insisted on giving her his number, but she had not given him hers. “After all, I’m gonna have lots of cocks to fuck at the RAF: I don’t need you anymore,” she had said, with disarming honesty. The man had seemed strangely disappointed by this, and so she had consoled him with: “Besides, you’ll be dropping in on your sister, won’t you? I bet I’ll see you around, and we can have a little fuck for old times’ sake. Bye, Rob – eat my cunt!” she had waved as she turned her back and strode away.The issue was clouded further by the appeal, from both sides of the debate, to “love”. Those who wanted to fuck freely said that they were expressing “love” in so doing – despite the fact that all they were doing was seeking pleasure. Those who felt that bringing up families was of primary importance appealed likewise to “love” – even though the obligation for man and woman to remain together (“marriage”) often led to hateful relationships between parents, and between parents and their children, and of course an epidemic of bitter divorces.Alison was getting bored of Professor Cuntslicker. And besides, her pussy was beginning to juice under the gentle touch of her finger. She sniffed her moist digit, and the gorgeous pungent scent of cunt filled her nostrils, making her groan with reawakened lust. She placed the book on the night-stand and began to finger-fuck herself in earnest, two fingers of one hand gently sliding in and out of her wet pussy, the spit-moistened thumb of the other softly rubbing her clit. It wasn’t long before she was muttering softly to herself: “Oh yeah baby, rub that fucking clit, that feels so fucking good. Slide those fucking fingers in and out of that slit…” Alison loved her own dirty talk: it pleasured her, and it made her hornier than ever. Soon it was four fingers in her cunt, and her whole palm, wettened with her flowing cunt-juice, was rubbing her clit with increasing pace. “Oh yeah baby, jerk off that fucking clit, make that fucking cunt come. Oh yeah, fuck, fuck, FUUUUUUUCK!!!” She came hard, squealing and panting as her cunt spasmed and a dribble of pussy juice made a little wet patch on the bedspread.An Enlightened society, we all istanbul travesti now know, depends upon the radical separation of these three things: “love”, child-bearing and pleasure – and the recognition that once they are separated mankind naturally seeks what is truly most important: Pleasure. “Love”, like the state, must wither away! This was the genius of the Great Enlightenment – but it could not have been realised without the scientific advances which led to the refashioning of the human being. Once Medical Modification (‘MM’) technology was perfected in 2025, followed by Genetic Modification (‘GM’) in 2027, it was possible for the Great Reconstruction to take commence. Mankind is being remade for Pleasure.Alison threw her slime-streaked copy of Cuntslicker into her rucksack, pulled on a white mini-skirt and matching halter top, and proceeded to get ready to make the short walk across the park to the Royal Academy. It was a mid-September morning – which, in post-climate-change London, meant that it was already over 30 degrees Celsius. People were out relaxing in the sun: some picnicking, some jogging, some sitting chatting on the park benches, some just fucking. A buxom blonde in a pink bikini and thigh-length latex boots relaxed on a bench smoking a cigarette, eyes closed in ecstasy as she lazily blew smoke-rings into the still morning air, her thong pulled slightly to one side so she could slowly slide a matching pink dildo into her hairless cunt. A bit further off the path, under a large oak, a breakfast bukkake party was reaching its conclusion: a slightly-built black-haired girl lay nude and spread-eagled on a picnic blanket while eight or nine men stood above and around her jerking copious quantities of sperm onto her reflective sunglasses, face and tits whilst she squealed dementedly, “Cum! cum! cum!” (“Fucking!” thought Alison, “I must try that sometime…”) And as she reached Maryleboner Road she passed a newly-constructed municipal gloryhole station; half a dozen men in suits, clearly on their way to work, were feeding their erections through a gleaming aluminium wall, under a billboard which read, “Blowjobs provided courtesy of the City of Wankminster: only 100 euros.”Some milestone dates are worth remembering:2023 – invention of Flexible Fertility Technology (FFT), allowing the state perfect control over human fertility, and well as the flawless breeding of human beings in vitro;2030 – the Great Expulsion: from istanbul travesti the European Union, of any non-sterilised specimens of Undesirables or Objectors (e.g. followers of antediluvian religious practices, as well as members of ethnic minorities with divided loyalties);2031 – the Societal Reconstruction Act (SRA), allowing parents to select GMs for their offspring in vitro (e.g. big tits, big dick, clean/lubed/gaping ass, gagless throat) – helping to create a society where everyone is beautiful and sexy, and Pleasure is universally available;2035 – foundation of the Royal Academy of Fucking, the first of its kind, helping to train young people in the pursuit of fucking Pleasure, and providing world-class professionals to roll out the Enlightenment vision across the Union.And so Alison came to her destination. As she walked up the front steps and into the entrance hall she was greeted with a glorious sight: on the back wall, a ceiling-high poster of a shiny pink hairless cunt penetrated (reverse cowgirl) by a huge cock, emblazoned with:Welcome to the RAF: We Train the Fuckers of the Future.Leather couches were scattered around the large vestibule, on which various pairs or groups of students were sitting chatting, having cups of coffee, reading or fucking, as they prepared for their first lectures of the day.Below the massive cock-in-cunt poster was a desk marked Reception, at which sat a young man with tousled red hair. “Suck m’ cock!” he called out enthusiastically as Alison approached.“M’ pussy. My name’s Alison Bates, I’m starting on the NDF course today, and –”“Alison Bates! The Alison Bates? I saw you on TV doing the championships up in… wherever it was. You got an amazing asshole!”“Oh, thank you,” said Alison, blushing pink as cunt.“And I had a bet with Anna” – he gestured to a short, slightly pudgy girl with huge breasts sitting next to him doing some paperwork – “that you must be the same family as Bates Butts – you know, the butt-plug guys?”“Yep, that’s my dad’s company,” replied Alison.“See, Anna? Told you!” said the young man to his buxom colleague. Anna smiled indulgently at him and waved a friendly “M’ pussy” to Alison.“I’m Andy, by the way,” continued the young man. “I just love asshole, you know – and yours is the best!“Well, maybe you can fuck it sometime,” replied Alison accommodatingly.“Fucking! Can’t wait. Now, here’s your welcome pack. See, Anna’s put your name on it,” continued Andy, indicating a rather flamboyant curly pink Alison Bates hand-written on the front cover. “Your timetable and everything’s in there. You’ve got at least half an hour before you start, so have a seat so you can read it all through. I think your first lecture’s in the Constance Money Lab, which is on the first floor – but it’s all in here.”

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