Seminal InfluencesChapter 3
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Seminal InfluencesChapter 4 free porn video
Bethany and Fred Sacks trusted Cyrus with the knowledge of their relationship, and Fred started meeting with Cyrus regularly, guiding the boy at the formation of his company. He had to get him at least a little familiar with the grubby grown-up details of intellectual property, venture capital, and corporations. To his credit, Fred took for his trouble only a 20% stake of the initial shares of the company (secretly assigning 1/3 of that to Bethany), leaving the remaining 80% to Cyrus.
Cyrus stepped forward when it came to naming the company. "White, Inc." had unpleasant racial overtones, but "Cyrus Corporation" did not.
The patent was unassailable. Proving the efficacy of the treatment was ridiculously easy, but establishing its safety was a somewhat longer process.
Investors had to estimate how many women and girls would want to use it. Some investors concluded that few would become sluts for knowledge, and they bowed out.
Others foresaw a two-step process. Artificial insemination worked if the semen reached the cervix in under a minute, but the effect was attenuated. They judged that many women could be convinced to shoot some milky fluid up their vaginas without viewing themselves as sluts. Then, the theory went, the intriguing benefits of that first, attenuated dose would reduce their resistance to proceeding to actual intercourse to attain the maximum benefit. They also speculated that once stunningly successful women like Julia Johnson revealed the source of their success, societal attitudes would change rapidly. They were right.
Based on the valuation of the privately held company, Cyrus at his 19th birthday was worth $7 billion according to the most conservative estimate.
There were a variety of intriguing possibilities for names, including "Deep Understanding", "Teach Me", "Personal Tutor", "Fun With a Purpose", and "Joy of Learning". It was ultimately marketed under the name "Insta-tutor", but it was commonly known simply as the "magic potion".
David was Brian Robertson's younger son. He tried to concentrate on his English. He was the star forward on the varsity basketball team. In the old days, that would have been enough to get him a girlfriend. It still was, and he'd had a few. But he could only have one at a time, and the hottest girls weren't interested.
The lucky boys -- the hot boys, the ones the girls wanted -- were the brains, like Chen. Chen fucked a different girl every day -- a different hot, sexy girl, because he had his choice. He knew stuff, so he could teach it. Girls eagerly opened their legs and let Chen fuck away because he could sperm their pussies and in that same ecstatic act teach them calculus, or German, or history.
No girls were particularly interested in basketball strategy, sports cars, or guns, his main interests. When he did it with a girlfriend, he could be pretty sure she wasn't taking any magic potion.
David tried to concentrate on his English. He tried, but he fell asleep.
"So what's the deal, Mr. Law man? I'm supposed to fuck the hot little detective girl. Sounds pretty good to me."
"I'm sure it's an appealing prospect. But you realize that this 'hot little detective girl' will then know just about everything you've thought of in the past week. So if you're guilty, she'll know it and can testify against you."
"I'm not guilty. You know that," said Sid Cabot with a small smile.
"There's some pretty good evidence against you already, you know. You can say you're not guilty, and for all I know you're not, but their case is pretty good. If it goes to trial and you're convicted, they can lock you up for 30 years. They're offering you a deal where you can walk in 10 if you do OK in prison. I'd consider taking it if I were you and staying as far away from the detective girl as you can."
"Can I just refuse? It must be illegal to make me do her, isn't it?"
"Yes, and you can refuse to give a semen sample too, but they'll tell the jury that and let them draw their own conclusions."
"What if the detective takes my shot of sperm and finds I'm innocent?"
"Well, then you walk, of course, if you can fuck another witness or two to get corroboration. You're the only one who knows what the women are going to find. But if I were you, I'd take the deal they're offering."
Sid read up on the test. They said that if you jerked off many time in the days before the test, they wouldn't know anything you thought about before then. They said most people couldn't help thinking about important things, though. But some yogis could pull it off. And Sid was strong and disciplined. He just wouldn't think about anything except happy things. But that was just his back-up plan. Plan A was to stop before he came.
The setup was a little weird. They took him to a snazzy motel room. He was alone with the pretty detective, but they had told him that men were outside the door listening, and she had a panic button she could press at any time if she didn't like what he was doing. She wore a short black dress, lacy bra and panties. She sure was one hot chick. (She was also Fred Sacks's niece.) Nice ass, and she let him do her like a dog. It sure felt great. He panted as he poked into the little woman over and over again. Fucking a cop; imagine that! It would be so easy to shoot off inside her, but he was disciplined. He had his plan. He just needed to pull out and say he couldn't manage to finish. But it felt so great. Just a few more strokes...
"Give it to me, baby," she said. "Shoot it right up my pussy!"
Oh, it was tempting. He started to pull out and let his cock calm down when she squeezed. Aw, shit, he was past the point of no return! He still pulled out, but his cock twitched and the stuff spurted onto the back of her thigh. She must have felt it, because she leapt away from him. She sucked the jism from her leg into a little syringe-like thing she produced out of nowhere. Then she stuck it way up her pussy and pressed the plunger. It was hot to see her so eager to get his sperm back into her body.
After a moment, she smiled at him. "I guess you're not guilty, are you?"
It had worked! He'd kept enough bad thoughts away.
They offered him two more hot detectives to fuck. His lawyer told him not to, but he fucked both of them, now seeing no need to hold back. He coated their innards with his manly stuff. He was strong and disciplined and could control his thoughts.
Maybe he should have listened to his lawyer, he reflected two years later, as the guy in the uniform slid the needle into his arm.
For while he'd been only an accomplice to the crime they'd charged him with, there were those two earlier murders, and yeah, he'd fucked 'em before he killed 'em. He hadn't managed to keep those thoughts out of his mind completely. The first detective had smiled at him as if she hadn't found anything incriminating, sneaky bitch, but it was just an act. The three little detectives he'd screwed had all given independent reports and they all agreed. That had led them to other evidence too, of course.
"Any last words?"
"Well, I wish I hadn't killed anyone. Wish I'd listened to my lawyer. But that second detective -- Mary, she said her name was -- she sure was hot. Tell Mary I love her." And at the moment, he really meant it.
Moments later, he felt himself slip into unconsciousness.
Kyle was Brian's older son, David's big brother. In the old days, he might have been a ski bum. But the magic potion offered him new opportunities.
To start with, he was a stunning hunk. He'd had an endless stream of women and had learned to be quite the lover.
His love in life was thrills and extreme sports. He climbed the highest peaks, including Everest. He skied the most spectacular mountains, scuba dived through inaccessible coral reefs, went bungee jumping and paragliding.
For his new occupation, he would top off his lifetime of memories with a couple days of intensive activity. He would then keep his appointment with a woman who had agreed to pay him handsomely for the service. She would drift from an orgasmic experience into the visceral reliving of some extreme sports that she herself would never engage in.
Roger was Cyrus's first cousin. He lifted his eyes from his thick electromagnetism book, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. It was kind of interesting. He kept reading about electromagnetism day after day, reviewing the important stuff constantly and delving into obscure parts of the field to keep it interesting. By this time it was his specialty. There wasn't much point in reading other areas because the young women who were the real students would get that from someone else.
When he started grad school, he'd had visions of becoming a great physicist, but the new seminal instruction technology his cousin Cyrus had created had already taken over by that time. He studied hard, but all the girls had to do was spread their legs for some professor and absorb his knowledge that way. The girls could learn so much more rapidly, and not just facts but to a certain degree the intangible mindset of the great men as well, the mindset that allowed creativity.
So he would never be a creative mind, never really move the field forward. He would forever teach electromagnetism. But he smiled as he thought about his latest lesson with Meghan. Great minds used to view teaching as an unpleasant distraction from research. But for men like Roger, teaching had never been so much fun.
In theory, admission to grad school was still based entirely on academic achievement. But part of his interview had been to fuck three professors. It wasn't official, of course, just evening recreation. Everyone knew that if you didn't, you'd never get into grad school. From his semen they could judge his ability to master material, but just as important, they could judge his moral character and personality. Anything in a young man's past that would upset a young woman was grounds for rejection. All off the record, of course. Fortunately he had lived a fairly uneventful life and was a decent person.
Surely the professors had picked up on the sexual background hum that permeated his life ever since puberty. Every female he met got evaluated as a potential piece of ass, not to put too fine a point on it. But apparently just about all the young men were the same way. It was something of a rude surprise for the women of the world to learn how prevalent this attitude was, but they got used to it. There had been articles written about that process of accommodation.
But he didn't give wolf whistles or make lewd remarks, and he had never actually groped a girl against her will. Sure, he had dismissed many of the women who crossed his path as old or fat or ugly, but all the guys did that, and apparently he hadn't done so with undue disgust. He hadn't been a bully or made fun of other boys. He hadn't tormented bugs.
They also evaluated his sexual performance. No gay man was going to get into a top-notch grad school. He had to be able to be a decent lover to women, even if they weren't especially attractive.
He passed the tests -- and, oh yeah, he was pretty smart too.
He got paid grad student wages for his teaching, but as soon as he earned his Master's degree, he'd drop out and make a decent salary as an instructor. But the real perk of his job was the inherent joy in the teaching.
Just about every day there was a new girl who needed one-on-one tutoring. And these girls were generally hot. Very hot.
For women to get into a top-notch university as an undergrad, they had to demonstrate a natural intelligence. But they also had to be the sort of girl that would turn on a tutor. That meant physically attractive, warm and friendly, with a strong sexual interest in a wide variety of men. They needed to lubricate easily, enjoy the sex act and come easily. For the truth was that the more exciting a tutor found his student, the better he was able to convey his knowledge to her when he inseminated her.
That was for undergraduate admissions. For a woman to get into a top-notch grad school, the requirements on native intelligence and intellectual achievement were greater, but she still had to be sexy. It really helped to be a bombshell.
Intro courses were taught by men less talented than Roger. He liked teaching grad students, but the upper-level undergrads were more carefree and fun.
They came to his house at midnight, the conventional hour that had emerged between tutors and students. Lovely young women dressed provocatively showed up at his door. After some conversation, they started making out and clothes flew off. He kissed eager lips, nibbled ears, sucked on nipples, and fondled feminine curves, including small, delicate ones. By convention all the girls waxed themselves regularly to maintain smooth, hairless feminine parts. Sparkling eyes gazed up into his as experienced warm mouths pleasured his cock. Before long it was time for the real lesson, and eager legs spread wide. The girls gave themselves some unobtrusive finger work to achieve a quivering readiness just before the penile insertion, and then he plunged in.
Learning worked best if he didn't hold back but just let his animal nature take over. With wet, hot and engorged feminine tissues right on the edge, the girls usually began coming in seconds. He made sure he got a deep penetration before a frenzied series of deep, primitive stabs, accompanied by animal grunting. In no more than a minute, he let loose, spewing gobs of creamy educational material all over the upper cunts of his sexually satisfied students. He usually stayed engaged inside the girl until his cock softened and then slid onto his back, happy and spent. He welcomed the girl as she snuggled against him and then he drifted off to sleep. He knew the girls went into a pleasant reverie laced with electromagnetism before falling asleep themselves.
In the morning they were gone. It would have been nice to wake up with them, but then both of them would have wanted a reprise, and that was no good. He needed to build up his stock of semen for the next night's lesson with another hot, gorgeous student.
Yeah, he'd dreamed about being a great physicist. This way he would always be a second-class citizen. But without a cervix, you just couldn't progress very far in any field of knowledge. He knew his place, and the consolation of an endless stream of hot, beautiful, grateful girls in his bed was no small thing.
"Resisting Temptation" in The New York Times by Rachel Johnson (Bethany and Julia's aunt)
A new medical procedure has been approved by federal regulators and will be available to all women later this year. It renders a woman permanently incapable of learning by seminal injection. This strikes many people as strange; all a woman has to do to avoid learning by seminal injection is not take the magic potion. Yet the new procedure is expected to be very popular.
To learn why, listen to Amber's story.
This writer would have judged her to be an average woman all around, in looks, personality, and educational attainment. She isn't so easy on herself.
"I struggled to make C's in school. I didn't believe in being one of those girls who learn by being a slut. It's against my values. And as you can see, I'm chubby and have a horsy face."
I wouldn't have put it that way, but I could see a grain of truth to what she said.
"So as you can imagine, I didn't get a lot of attention from the smart and handsome guys. Not even the nice guys."
Many writers have remarked on the recent popularity of nice guys. When dating, many women will take the magic potion when sex is likely. Even before the man's ecstasy has faded or his breathing returned to normal, she will learn the essentials of his character. If it is unappealing, that will be the end of the relationship. Good character is the hot new commodity.
Many men will insist on using condoms and make sure their seed and their secrets stay their own. That would seem to be a good thing; in the old days a man who religiously used a condom was a responsible partner. But now the nagging question becomes: does he have something to hide?
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