The Pornography Wars
The Pornography Wars takes political satire and social comment (with a liberal dash of humour) into a new dimension.
Sex is the essence of everything.
Is human history contrived by aliens?
Are we in a film set for an alien pornographic soap opera?
Is all human culture nothing more than an alien psych-master’s program?
What happens when the aliens argue over the future of pornography on their tridee sets?
What is going to happen to the future of human beings?
Trut – the planet of love.
If ever there was a place that lived up to the slogan ‘Make Love Not War’ it was Trut – the home of fruit eating pacifists.
Inhabited by a highly intelligent race of people, a people who were blue in colour, due to their efficient copper-based blood pigment, Trut was the home planet of a civilisation that had not only survived for hundreds of thousands of years but was the hub of an empire that extended over thousands of worlds.
The planet Trut was a technological marvel, a jewel of civilisation.
The truts had uniquely evolved in a world where there were no carnivores. During their early evolution they had nothing to fear or defend themselves against and no desire to hunt. Consequently violence was an anathema to them. Food and space had always been plentiful. They had no need to fight. It wasn’t in them.
At the dawn of time when the first primitive truts evolved, if two tribes met in the steamy jungles of Trut, instead of fighting over territory, they immediately became sexually inflamed and came together in a glorious orgy.
Nothing had changed over the millennia in which they had created their civilisation, mastered science and conquered space. Their lack of aggression and competition had not stunted their curiosity or drive to discover. Far from it. These small, three-foot high, beings were highly successful, and even though they lived in the most sophisticated societies, sex was still their all-consuming passion.
Nature had been kind to them, providing them with both highly developed brains and immensely efficient supple bodies.
The flexible cartilaginous skeleton provided strength and resilience without the need for joints. Their ‘bones’ were springy which conferred great power.
Each trut’s large brain was housed in the centre of their body, protected in a flexible cartilaginous shell and supplied with oxygen by two hearts. The many layered cortex, rich in cells, had provided them with great intelligence which meant that truts had always been inquisitive and imaginative.
Truts resembled large blue terrestrial sea anemones with an array of tentacles and four flexible limbs, two adapted as legs and two as arms. They were nimble dextrous and skilful. With their sensory and respiratory tubes extended they resembled blue medusas with a long crimson gash down their fronts. Their sex organs – their proudest feature. The focus of attention.
Truts were hermaphrodite, possessing both male and female sex organs. There were seven eel-like extendable penises, slim but over a foot in length and seven vaginas. These organs of procreation were housed in a cloaca situated centrally in what would be the chest and abdomen of a human being.
This cloaca was a vivid scarlet foot long slit when not aroused. When aroused it opened like a flower unfurling and oscillated with fluorescence like a psychedelic lightshow. This was all the more conspicuous because of truts pale sky blue colour and as truts rarely wore clothing, except for specialist work, the coloration of their cloacas was all-important. It indicated their sexual condition. Inside the slit of their cloacas were housed their seven penises (fully retracted), seven vaginas and numerous folds, membranes and filaments.
They took great pride in flaunting their cloacas even more so than their faces.
Despite their technological and social sophistication sex was their obsession.
The stability of their system depended on a culture steeped in history and refined through time.
One, two, four and seven were the magic numbers and of these seven was the most sacred – one for the brain, two for the hearts, hands and feet, four for the limbs and seven for the penises and vaginas, the senses and the respiratory tubes, seven for the digits of each limb – seven the magic connection with the universe and the provider of life.
Seven – the number providing life-giving air, awareness and procreation.
Truts liked seven.
Thus seven became the sacred number, which, from the earliest times of trut philosophy, gave rise to the seven pillars of wisdom – the basis of all trut ethics. Originally devised as the philosophy through which all truts were versed in order to achieve a perfect life – empathy, harmony, love, respect, responsibility, compassion and wisdom.
The early treatises of these seven pillars were even to this day the subject of much reclusive contemplation. Most intelligent truts, at some point in their incredibly long lives, would retreat for seven years of seclusion in which they would devote themselves to studying the seven pillars and meditating on the meaning of life.
They found this most invigorating.
Jrrred was a handsome and successful trut – a highly respected tridee director.
She slipped out of her somni on to the warm floor of her dormi, placed her feet apart and stretched her body out to their fullest extent bending each appendage in turn. Jrrred’s limbs felt delightfully sinuous and digits exceptionally supple today as she flexed the bendy skeletal elements back and forth.
It already felt like it was going to be a good day. She arched her back and yawned deliciously.
She extended her respiratory tubes and took three deep breaths through each in turn, drawing air through the seven tubes into her two lungs. She felt the oxygen coursing through her body as her two hearts raced faster, causing her large brain, situated in its flexible cartilaginous casing in the centre of her body, to pulse with energy.
It was her morning ritual. There was nothing like eight hours of weightless oblivion in a top class gravosomni, soothingly massaged by a pulsing throb of energy as one slept, followed by stimulating vibro-shower and an invigorating physical ritual of exercise to restore a sense of well-being.
It was a new day and Jrrred felt ready to take on the universe.
When her ritual was complete she extended an optical protuberance to its full extent so that she could assess how she looked. Even with the most critical eye Jrrred liked what she saw. Her skin was taut with a healthy sky-blue glow. Her rounded dome of what passed for a head sat proudly on her shoulders, face expressive, buccal pert, aural, optic and respiratory tubules a healthy yellow. Her limbs were slender and attractive. It was good to be alive. As she extended and bent each limb in turn she delighted in the ease with which the supple cartilage flexed.
She felt good.
She turned her attention to her cloaca. She had spent much time grooming it with just the right amount of hormones. It was so important in her line of work. A cloaca had to present exactly the right image. It had to hang on the cusp of arousal. Too much and it could promote the wrong reaction, too little and it did not command attention.
The long central slit was bright crimson tinged with a faint hint of orange, yellow and green. The lips had a suggestion of engorgement, sufficiently parting to enable the internal labia, filaments and membranes to slightly protrude. Her cloacal slit glistened healthily.
She extended a respiratory tube and sniffed. The musky aroma was very heady and made her nasal tissue tingle.