My Descent With Sarah Pt 14

Sarah Clarke's escapades of the past year or so had seemingly caught the attention of the whole country, to add to the considerable reputation she'd built up overseas. It wasn't uncommon to read columns by journalists who attempted to dissect the nation's attitude to this new sexual phenomenon which was taking the nation by storm. There was one such column in today's 'Daily Light' newspaper, which I'd just picked up from our doormat after I'd heard it arrive this morning.

Typically, critiques of Sarah were disparaging and disgusted and when I saw the author, I expected more of the same. But I was intrigued by the title of the piece:

'Why Sarah Clarke may just be a feminist heroine, by Belinda Charles'

Belinda Charles was a lady in her sixties who had been a ferocious feminist of the man-hating variety throughout the seventies and eighties. She'd seemingly mellowed in her later years and these days was a regular on daytime TV and early evening quiz shows, becoming more famous for being famous than any of her achievements in younger life.

"I'll confess," it started, "to surprising myself as much as I'll be surprising you with this column today. I've just witnessed a situation which is a direct result of Sarah Clarke's, how shall I put it ... activities. And which, I believe, is a sign of a much healthier relationship between women and sex which I'd hope and expect will lead to women finally being able to enjoy their sexuality with honesty and without shame.

"I saw a statistic last week which astounded me. I have no idea how they work these things out, but apparently over fifty percent of the adult population of this country has watched some of Miss Clarke's material. Of those, over forty percent watched again.

"This isn't a percentage of teenage boys, or dirty old men -- of those who have admitted to watching, nearly half are female.

"I know! I didn't believe it either. But I'm told the figures are reliable.

"So, presented with this information, there was really only one thing to do. I spent an evening watching some of this material myself.

"It was certainly not hard to find -- whether by design or not, Sarah Clarke and her associates appear to have infiltrated every corner of the internet. Her encouragement of her audience to record their own footage however they feel like it, and to distribute that however they feel fit, has resulted in a situation where you can see this very attractive young lady doing just about anything within a few mouse clicks.

"I'm old enough to remember people serving jail terms for being involved in activities not half as explicit as Miss Clarke has made her name for. But I'm prepared to concede that we live in a very different world than the one I grew up in. For better or for worse.

"Rather than sample her work through the eyes of one of the many, many appreciation or fan sites that have sprung up around her, I thought that in order to judge fairly, I should see her work as she presents it herself. So, I joined what must now be a significant number of people - many of you reading this article - in paying for a monthly subscription to her website. Of course, I can claim that back as an expense of my job, but it's quite a trifling amount, all things considered.

"What did I find? Everything you'll have read about, if you haven't witnessed with your own eyes. It's all true. She really does all that stuff. And, I'll admit, in my younger years the lady, her website, her fans and her attitude would have been condemned -- damned to hell if I'd written a column like this having witnessed what she gets up to.

"But -- and here's the thing -- I came away from watching all that Sarah Clarke does without any hollow feeling that I'd been forced to look through a window at a veiled scene of exploitation. Without any feeling that anyone had been taken advantage of, pushed into doing anything they didn't want to do in any way.

"Don't get me wrong. Some of the things she and her cohorts do with such relish truly turn my stomach. But I've been unfortunate enough to witness some awful scenes and some truly exploited young ladies put through some quite disturbing acts for the gratification of those behind the camera. This was totally different. At no point during any of the scenes I watched did I see any sign of anyone doing anything which wasn't very clearly of their own free will.

"Indeed, quite the opposite. Much as I'd be the first to point out if my findings were to the contrary, the fact is it's without doubt that all the participants in Sarah Clarke's dirty deeds -- her ex-students, her friend and her daughter -- who also, I believe, is one of Miss Clarke's ex-students, any number of young men who have become public fornicators overnight, even her husband -- they're all having a whale of a time.

"I'm going to be honest with you. In younger years I would not have allowed any of that to get in the way of my vitriol. Back then I knew everything, of course. But in my advanced, and I'd hope, wiser years, all I can say is this:

"I don't see anything wrong with what Sarah Clarke has done. And continues to do.

"There, I said it. I can already feel the disapproval of most of my peers. But I'm being honest.

"Sarah Clarke is not the cause of any of society's problems. She, very clearly, is absolutely in charge of everything that she does. She's in control of all the pictures and videos you may find of her.

"I'll say this again -- she very obviously enjoys everything that she does. Would I enjoy doing that stuff? Probably even less than any of you would enjoy watching it! But that shouldn't and doesn't mean that it's wrong.

"And, furthermore, I'm prepared to propose that having a role model like Sarah Clarke, who so obviously holds all of the power in her dealings with so many men, is not necessarily a bad thing for the young females of today.

"Of course, I'd doubt that many of them would want to entertain busloads of gentlemen as is Miss Clarke's wont, but anyone who witnesses how she can hold the patriarchal menace - that a gathering of so many men can so easily become - in the palm of her hand, couldn't fail to understand the power that most women have no idea they can access.

"I'm not for a moment suggesting that girls should use their sexual attractiveness as a weapon. But the surprising situation I witnessed, as I mentioned earlier, was this:

"I was over at my daughter's house, having dinner with her and her family. She has two daughters of her own, my grandchildren, both in their early twenties. Both are single. The conversation turned to Miss Clarke and her well-publicised activities.

"I was very surprised to learn that both the girls were subscribers to Miss Clarke's website. And even more so to learn that my own daughter, although not a subscriber, regularly watched, courtesy of her daughter's accounts.

"My surprise came from an assumption that my daughter's family life was probably a carbon copy of my own experience of parenting her. Despite my attempts to grasp liberation and free love with the enthusiasm of some of my 'sisters', I'd never managed to shake the sense of self consciousness and awkwardness of my own body, when I was inclined to try.

"And thus, despite my real inclination to have a strong enough relationship with my daughter that we'd be able to discuss sex frankly and openly, I'll confess to failing miserably. Until now.

"Until recently I know my daughter had been the same as me. But it seems that her own daughters had no such crutches, and Sarah Clarke bursting into our collective consciousness had been embraced by both girls immediately. And according to them, a lot of their friends had felt the same way.

"The situation they described sounded like an unlikely utopia to me. Groups of friends, both male and female, comfortable and able to express their sexual interests and leanings like I might have discussed my favourite TV show or author. And all of them embracing Sarah Clarke and her friends as very much a positive influence.

"And my daughter had reported the same findings, after also becoming a fan of Miss Clarke's work. I know my daughter well, of course. And I trust her decision making. So, the fact she was so relaxed about her daughters' acceptance of this 'sex as entertainment' attitude -- and indeed her own acceptance of the same, was enough for me to decide to investigate myself.

"So, there we have it. No matter how distasteful we may find the activities of Miss Clarke and her peers, no matter the urge to push her to the background along with all the other unpleasant and unpalatable things we've tolerated over the years, Sarah Clarke is, I'm convinced, here to stay. I'm expecting her, and perhaps those she influences, to be around for years to come.

"And what's more, I suspect she's going to become the first real sex celebrity of our times -- certainly in this country. She's already most of the way there, in my opinion.

"So, before we despair for the direction of the country and the future of our children, consider this.

"Pornography has traditionally been a pretty dark, seedy and almost totally male-centric world. That sleazy closed shop has in the past twelve months been blown apart by one young lady and her husband, with their enormous libidos. If we accept that porn is always going to exist -- and I think that's a given -- isn't it refreshing that the main player in this country is a beautiful young lady, rather than a dirty old man?

"Sarah!" I called excitedly, having read and re-read this unexpectedly positive piece.

"What?" came the groggy reply. Sarah was much less of a morning person than I was.

I walked into the bedroom where Sarah was looking stunning as usual, naked on top of the duvet due to the unseasonably warm weather we were enjoying. I almost forgot why I was there; such was the distraction of her perfect curves which I knew were all mine to feast upon whenever I chose.

"What?" she laughed.

"Oh right, yeah. Check this out!" I tossed the paper to her, folded back to the page of the column. Sarah read and digested the words with increasing pleasure, a smile spreading across her face as she got to the end.

"Wow!" she beamed, proudly. "She really doesn't hate me, does she?"

It couldn't be argued that most of the commentaries on Sarah Clarke came from a position starting at distaste, but usually at least bordering on absolute hatred. This was such a breath of fresh air. Despite never noticing any weight on her shoulders, I did notice a lifting of sorts from her persona from that time onwards.

That continued over the coming days. It seemed that there was positive sentiment about Sarah and her filthy material -- much more so than we could have guessed. Belinda Charles, whilst not exactly opening the floodgates, had certainly set a position which it seemed others were now able to concur with.

Freshly buoyed by this shift in public opinion, Sarah and I turned our minds to our wedding plans. Unsurprisingly, it was to be an unconventional one.

Having access to such a large number of people who were sympathetic to our interests and attitudes had made it a lot easier, but the logistics had still been challenging. However, the day had arrived, and everything was in place.

We had exclusive access to Calthorn Manor, a very large and luxurious stately home which usually commanded a six-figure fee to hire for the day, as we'd done. However, when it became clear what the plans for the day and night were, and that the owner was welcome to attend, the price dropped dramatically.

The upstairs of the building was off-limits to all but Sarah and I, but the many reception rooms and large function halls were set up to comfortably accommodate all of the three hundred plus guests who had been lucky enough to receive an invite. There were three bars, a large kitchen, and people on hand to take coats, park cars, fetch drinks -- any little luxury you could think of.

Every person who attended that day, from staff to guests and even through to the registrar who performed the ceremony, was fully subscribed to the theme of the day. Most were subscribers to the website. Many were already known to us, from Sarah's ex-students to some of the publishing team from Aphrodite.

Neither Sarah nor I had invited any family. For differing reasons we'd both long since lost touch. Nor had we kept in touch with many friends. The only person I invited, outside our new 'professional' circle, was my friend Nick.

Nick had been present on the night I'd first met Sarah, and so it seemed apt that he be there for our wedding. I realised we hadn't actually spoken since that night, so it was with real warmth that I greeted him and his wife, Collette, as they ascended the grand steps to the open doors of the venue.

Collette had always struck me as quite plain, but today she looked magnificent, auburn hair bouncing off her shoulders in ringlets, and strikingly blue eyes looking up at us with warmth and perhaps a hint of awe. I'd noticed that look in quite a few people as Sarah's fame had spread, she was quite the superstar these days.

I left Collette handing her jacket to one of the staff and wandered off with Nick, pleased with the opportunity to catch up and surprised how much I'd missed talking to him. When reminded of the night Sarah and I had met, where Nick had ended up with two quite rough looking Blondes, he laughed.

"Yeah, Collette wasn't too happy about that!"

Nick's relationship with his wife Collette had always seemed intriguing to me back then but having now spent a year with Sarah, nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. Nick always had plenty of extra marital relationships, and yet, to the outsider, he'd never seemed to suffer any consequences, the pair of them always seemed happy.

Behind the scenes, clearly all had not been as it had seemed, and Nick told a tale of a marriage teetering on the brink of divorce, due to his many extra-marital indiscretions. Interestingly, his admission that he knew me, and was there the night I'd met the famous Sarah Clarke, had been the saving of their marriage. Collette had, it transpired, a hitherto undiscovered and voracious appetite for the type of pornography my wife-to-be excelled in producing.

Since then, it sounded like Nick's sex life had taken a dramatic turn for the better.

"The only problem is, mate, I still owe her," Nick muttered, a little begrudgingly.

"Owe her what?" I questioned.

"She only knows about half of the stuff I got up to. But that's twelve different times I was unfaithful. I promised her she could do the same, you know. But she said that wasn't enough, said for every one I'd had, she wanted two. What was I meant to do? I mean, I love her, don't I."

"So, you agreed?" I said with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah," Nick sighed. "I mean, how are you supposed to come to terms with something like that? Letting her get all intimate with someone else. Turns my stomach, when I think about it."

"I've got quite a bit of experience in that area," I laughed.

"Oh, sorry, yes, of course you do."

"No need to apologise. I'm marrying her, aren't I?"

"I know. But how do you do it? I mean, watching some random just rock up to your missus, and stick his cock in her?"

"I used to find the idea pretty hot, to be honest, but the reality seemed a bit, yeah, wrong. But once it happened, that was it, the dam broke. I wouldn't have her any other way now."

"I don't blame you mate. I mean, Collette's getting pretty adventurous recently. Mostly after watching your girl. But Sarah, she's something else. What a fucking woman you've got there, how the fuck did you manage that?"

I shrugged.

"I mean, I hope you don't mind me saying, I guess you're used to it. But what a fucking slut! In a good way, of course. I couldn't fucking believe the shit she did on your holiday -- she's such a cock-hungry little thing!"

"She is that," I grinned. "But it sounds like you've got yourself one now, too. Or you will have, once she's had her twenty-four cocks you've promised her!"

A look of shock broke over Nick's face.

"Shit. Twenty-four. I don't know if I can her taking handle even one."

"Well, I think you might find out today," I suggested. I gestured over Nick's shoulder, where Collette was talking animatedly with Juliet and her new boyfriend, a good-looking man in his thirties. Juliet had a voracious appetite for sex with both men and women, and I knew where she'd like to take the conversation -- and no doubt her boyfriend wouldn't object to that.

"Jesus, that's the young girl, I've seen her... I've seen you fucking her!"

"And a lot of other men, if you've watched all of her stuff," I smiled. Juliet had her hand on Collette's arm, and her eye contact suggested she was holding a deep and meaningful conversation, despite them having only just met.

"It looks like she's taken a shine to your wife there. Think about it this way, If Collette's interesting in broadening her horizons today, and doesn't mind you doing the same, I don't think you'll be short of opportunities..." We both scanned the room.

We'd set the bar high as far as dress code for today. Everyone was impeccably adorned with exquisite and expensive looking outfits. Most of the ladies wore hats and elegant dresses, albeit with a lot of cleavage on show and lots of thigh-high splits showing flashes of elegant underwear. Every man sported a well fitted suit.

Many of the guests were there by appointment, having applied via the website. And all had submitted a written application and provided a photo. Similar to the way Holly and Juliet had selected the participants in their recent gangbang, Sarah had painstakingly examined each application, often calling me in for a second opinion. In this way, the guest list was born.

I was fascinated in just how many female applicants there were. The world appeared to have changed a lot since I was in my twenties, which was overwhelmingly the age range of most of the invitees. Not only the fact that women subscribed to Sarah's site, which pretty exclusively focussed on large numbers of men attending to one or two women, but the fact that these were very, very attractive people.

Obviously, Sarah's vetting process had, as non-politically correct as it was, ensured a certain attractiveness was the norm. But it was not difficult to achieve this, as there were so very many applicants of that level or attractiveness to choose from. We could have filled the place many times over with a similar standard of person.

Sarah had been quite careful to try to root out the chancers and five-minutes-of-fame types, of which there had been many. She'd thrown so many extremely attractive looking types onto what she called the 'love island' pile, where the plastically attractive, vacant personality types belonged.

It looked like she'd done a good job. Every lady seemed to be pleased to be there, excited by the prospect of the day. And all looked to be someone I'd have no problem getting to know better, personally or physically. Every male attending had made the effort too -- cleanly shaven, smart suits, polished shoes.

"Shit mate," Nick giggled. "How the fuck have you done this. It's like a celebrity wedding or something."

The guests had started arriving from 11am, and the ceremony was due to start at 3pm. Initially, things went quite formally. You could have easily mistaken the event for any old wedding.

The numbers had been very carefully decided upon. Whereas you might think that even numbers of women and men might be a desirable target, this feeling would ignore the preferences of Sarah, her maid of honour Annette, and her bridesmaids, Holly and Juliet. So, a ratio of three men for every two girls was decided upon. This, Sarah had reasoned, meant that no woman would be unattended to, and the guys wouldn't feel like they had to out-compete each other like some sort of 'chimpanzee mating ritual'.