The Fake Deepfakes Pt 01

NOTE: This story will make more sense if you've read the 'My Descent with Sarah' series.

"Thanks to all of you, as ever, for watching, and please tune in tomorrow as we talk to Michael Babinata about his sudden rise to fame as the star of 'Intrinsic Investigations', and we ourselves investigate the shady practice of 'Shrinkflation', where we continue to pay the same amount, but receive less for our money."

The beautiful host's impossibly perfect smile nestled in the middle of a face that was made for TV. Flawless complexion and eyes which pulled you in like a Star Wars tractor beam. Just to confirm just how perfect they were, she crossed her legs, timed to give them maximum exposure as the camera panned away and over the applauding audience.

The credits rolled and another episode of 'The Evening Begins' was complete. What a fucking stunner the host was. Not for the first time, I reminded myself just how lucky I was that she was my wife.

Being married to a celebrity was something I could never get used to. Suzanne had been an ambitious journalist when we'd met at university, and her career had gone on a continuous upward trajectory. Her placement at a local radio company leading to her moving through various roles and shows before she made her mark on the TV world.

She'd progressed from children's TV, to more serious shows, current affairs and light entertainment. Her relaxed and comfortable way with the camera, excellent interviewing skills, and in no small part her superb looks, meant she was never short of offers for work. She was capable of fronting any sort of show, from light entertainment to deep political discourse.

By the age of twenty-nine, she was the anchor on an early evening current affairs show on the main national station in the UK. Filming three shows per week left her plenty of time for the many other offers of contract work, personal appearances, game show slots etc.

Suzanne Sharp (her maiden name, she'd not taken my surname of 'Smith' on marriage for career reasons) was one of the most well known faces in the country, and was regularly voted top of the country's most attractive, well dressed or intelligent people, depending on the poll.

Physically she was breathtaking, even to me after 6 years of marriage. Aside from her face, which was still as stunning as I described a minute ago, she was almost as tall as me in her heels, (I'm six foot), with long, wavy, brunette hair which had earned her a TV ad campaign with a famous haircare company.

She was slim, but not painfully so. I changed my opinion almost daily on what her best physical asset was. Legs, eyes, breasts, bum - the truth was there wasn't a flaw, no matter how hard you looked.

Obviously she'd have no personality, being used to the world falling at her feet at her beauty then, right?

Wrong. Suzie was my soulmate, my friend to watch the football with, my sounding board for my troubles at work, my partner at the gym, my company on holidays around the world. Our time together never felt forced, or old; we were made for each other.

So, sometimes I had to remind myself how lucky I was. This was one of those times. This superstar of the small screen lay below me, rubbing her clit furiously as I fucked her. She was bringing herself to orgasm, as she liked to do when we fucked, and I was telling her how much the world would love to watch what a dirty little slut she was.

"Look at you, legs wide open, big cock slamming in and out of your juicy little cunt," I encouraged her, noting her fingers moving more urgently with each word.

"Oh I'm so wet, Rich" she grinned wickedly. She noted my eyes glued to the sight of her pussy gripping my cock as it pistoned in and out of her. "You like to see my little cunt full of your cock, don't you?"

"Oh I do. But not as much as half the population of the country would. I could sell the footage of this for millions!" I smiled, knowing how much she loved me to talk like this.

"You think so?" she asked, rhetorically, her orgasm building. "You think everyone wants to watch me fucking?"

I knew they did. The country had changed enormously in the past year or so. An incredible phenomenon called Sarah Clarke had come from nowhere and, driven by her sheer sexual appetite, had hauled the country's attitude to sex into the twenty-first century. Inspired by the overwhelmingly positive public reaction to Sarah's escapades, all of a sudden real, hardcore pornography was freely available in the same shops we bought our daily newspapers from.

Sarah Clarke had become a TV star in her own right, but her material was very different to Suzanne's. Where Suzanne had studied journalism, and worked her way up through several jobs as she made her name in a reputable and respectable business, Sarah had, quite literally, fucked her way into the public eye.

A former teacher who, early in her 'career', arranged for several of her ex students (and a hundred or so other invitees) to have sex with her and one of their ex-classmates' mothers, with the whole thing being broadcast, free of charge, on her website, Sarah had single handedly forced recreational sex into the mainstream.

Sarah Clarke could very well have the only face, outside of the royal family or some famous footballers, to be able to truthfully claim to be more famous than Suzanne. You might have expected Sarah to be an object of scorn for someone like Suzanne. However, even though she could never admit this to her colleagues, I knew that Sarah Clarke had become an inspiration to Suzie.

We never missed an episode of her late evening show which went out on the rival national channel to the one Suzie was contracted to. The show was groundbreaking, as it featured full, penetrative sex, broadcast to anyone who had a TV. Sarah's show, as well as featuring regular participation from herself, starred horny members of the public who took up Sarah's invitation to live out their most intimate desires in front of an audience which very nearly rivalled that of Suzanne's own show. Inevitably the pair of us would end up masturbating, or having sex ourselves, as the latest housewife explored her fantasies, or Sarah herself invited members of her audience up on stage with her, as happened most weeks.

Suzanne harboured a strong envy of, and admiration for, the lovely Sarah Clarke. And when she was asking, like she was right now, whether the country wanted to watch her fucking, she was very aware that we now lived in a country where this sort of thing was very much possible.

These thoughts were, as usual, all it took to set us both off. I pulled out and gripped my shaft firmly, holding back a little until I was sure she was climaxing. As she began convulsing I pulled my cock furiously, releasing several thick streams over her, covering her firm, round breasts, flat stomach and some splashing across her chin and lips.

"Oh fucking hell, I'm such a filthy little slut, I love being wanked over like that," she sighed. This was a common theme, in fact almost every orgasm she had, when I was involved anyway, was accompanied by vocal fantasies of her exposure, or being the centre of attention. Suzanne Sharp was, as well as being one of the most recognisable faces in the country, a confirmed exhibitionist. And I was very much the voyeur - I loved to watch her.

I'd had some limited experience of other women before meeting Suzanne, and they had all been just so difficult, so much hard work in comparison. I remember trying to impress, to win over, to cajole, worrying about what I wore, what style my hair was supposed to be in. All things which were completely alien to me.

The day I met Suzie, I knew what they meant by 'Soulmate'. With very few exceptions, everything she wanted to do, I wanted to do. The very first time we had sex, she'd told me to do whatever I wanted to her. I'd heard similar things from other girls, but with Suzanne I knew she meant it, no strings, no games, no agenda.

That first night, first sex, a time when usually the boundaries would be tentatively tested, I knew it would be fine to pull out of Suzie's juicy little pussy and use her mouth to bring myself to orgasm. The wicked look in her eyes, which remained fixed to mine as I filled her mouth with the most enormous load of cum, confirmed it for me. You aren't supposed to say it on a first date, and I didn't, but I knew Suzanne Sharp was the one for me.

I guessed that most people in the public eye did have an exhibitionist streak, it probably came with the territory. But I'd known since we met that Suzanne had more than a streak. Going back to university, where she'd insist on fucking in front of the ground floor window with the curtains open in the middle of the day, through various holidays where we'd always gravitate to a nudist beach, it was clear she needed to feel eyes on her.

Despite this side of her being so very much at the forefront of her mind when we were together, she possessed the ability to switch to the wholesome, respectable, dependable TV presenter whenever she needed to.

Even so, it was a surprise that some of this past behaviour hadn't caught up with her. We'd had to curtail the more blatant exposure that she liked to indulge in as her fame had increased. However, even since her rise to prominence, the famous Suzanne Sharp regularly appeared, face masked from view, on the pages of top shelf magazines and adult websites - very much inspired by Sarah Clarke.

Suzie would conceal her face and pose for dirty pictures, and loved it when I brought those magazines featuring her famous form back for her to peruse. Sometimes she'd wistfully wonder whether anyone might guess it was her. Of course there's no way they could, but her appearances on various websites always resulted in an avalanche of positive comments nevertheless. Famous or not, her body was incredible.

She also loved to provide lurid stories of her fantasies of being fucked by strangers, used as a willing fuck-toy by anyone who wanted her, and she loved to see her filthy thoughts alongside her naked pictures. She'd masturbate as she wondered just how many people were enjoying her body, bringing themselves to orgasm at the sight of her.

I was lucky enough to own the full, uncensored, photosets where Suzanne was totally revealed, face and all. We also had countless videos where the famous Suzanne Sharp fixed her eyes on the camera, talking out her own and my fantasies whilst fucking enthusiastically. Any time something struck me that I'd love to see her do, or say on camera, she invariably shared my enthusiasm and accommodated my dirty desires with delight. We were wired the same way.

Suzanne loved to let me see she was wearing something particularly sexy (stockings, suspenders, no panties) before leaving for a live broadcast. I knew she'd be thinking of this each time she crossed her legs in one of her elegant long dresses, and I, like the rest of the nation, was glued to the screen, hoping for a wardrobe malfunction.

On reflection, it was a surprise she'd got this far without her inclinations clashing with her career. But despite, or perhaps in some small way, because of her exhibitionist streak, she went from strength to strength. She loved being in the limelight.

And I loved this too. I often watched her, along with the rest of the nation, knowing that this vision on my screen was, behind the face that smiled innocently as it spoke of the shortage of science teachers, or the dangers of fracking, a filthy girl who fantasised about the world watching her fuck. Whilst I very much loved fucking my wife, I'd get a similar thrill masturbating over her fully clothed on the TV, smug in the knowledge that I knew what she really was, what she dreamed of doing.

Tonight's episode of 'The Evening Begins' was about half-way through. She was tying up a wildlife story.

"Thanks Mike - let's hope people heed the warnings, and leave those seals undisturbed, it would be awful to lose them." She turned to face the camera on her left, choreographed perfectly. The camera panned across and zoomed in on her lovely face, which had adopted a look of concern.

"Until recently, whilst women had to be careful about what they shared, they could only be a victim of so-called 'revenge porn' if there was actually some naughty material of them out there. But this has all changed recently, with the advent of 'DeepFakes'. Our correspondent Julie talked to a woman, who asked to remain nameless, about her experiences." My ears had perked up at the word 'porn'.

There followed a short segment describing how a woman had her likeness taken by an ex boyfriend who, using technical know-how and new technology, superimposed her face onto various pornstars performing a variety of sexually explicit poses and acts.

This woman was clearly distressed by this, and had ended up leaving her job and finally moving home due to the backlash and reaction the unwanted material had caused, after her ex had made sure her friends and family had all seen it.

Once the segment finished, Suzanne, a look of mild shock and distaste fixed upon her face, continued.

"Well thank you so much. As mentioned, this lady didn't want to be named and is now building a new life for herself. But what an awful thing for someone to do to her. I'm joined by Charis Newton, of the 'Support for Revenge Porn Victims group, or SRPV."

Suzanne turned to face her guest, who was a small, mousy haired woman with large glasses.

"Thanks for coming along tonight, Charis," Suzanne welcomed her, warmly.

"Thanks for having me on, Suzanne. This is a subject which is often brushed under the carpet or dismissed as trivial, but as we can see, it can have an enormous impact on those affected, and our laws are woefully underprepared for the type of material which can now be produced by even relatively unskilled people in their own homes."

"That's what surprised me," Suzanne agreed. "Just how easy it is for people to produce this stuff."

"It is," nodded Charis. "You only need to make one web search and there's any amount of this disgusting material out there. I imagine you'll have been a victim yourself, even if you aren't aware. Fake celebrity porn is rife."

"Until tonight," Suzanne said, solemnly, "I was not aware. So, for our viewers' knowledge, they can do this to anyone?"

"All they need is a few pictures from different angles. They can then plug those into their software, take some of the enormous amount of disgusting material out there, and the software does the rest, it superimposes the face."

Suzanne again addressed the camera.

"After hearing about this, I took it upon myself to search for my own name. I'm not going to tell you exactly what I searched, but suffice to say, Charis was absolutely right. Alongside many, many others in the public eye, I did find that I was also a victim of this despicable practice. I'm in the process of seeing what can be done about it."

"I'm sorry to tell you, Suzanne, but you'll find that currently you can do absolutely nothing about it. The stuff will be hosted in some country or other than cares not a jot about your image being violated, and the perpetrators are free to do this to anyone they like.

"This is where SRPV are trying to change things - we're in constant dialogue with MPs to try to get some sort of legislation to make the perpetrators liable."

Charis continued to urge viewers to sign her petition, and Suzanne added her voice, encouraging everyone to back the campaign.

+++++++++++

"Did you see?" Suzanne had arrived home this evening a bit earlier than she usually did. She looked flustered.

"I certainly did. I had no idea!" I laughed. Then, holding my phone up, "I've been watching all the porn you've been doing, I had no idea you'd been so busy!"

Suzanne snatched my phone out of my hand, a glint in her eye.

"I know, right?. Oh, Christ, I saw this one too." My phone was displaying an image of my wife smiling up into the camera whilst one of her co-stars on 'The evening begins', Mary Sheen, eased her well lubricated fist into Suzanne Sharp's famous vagina.

"I mean, I knew you got on well with Mary, but..."

"Shut up!" But those eyes were alight. "I was finding all this stuff in the taxi on the way back. There's loads of it out there, I had no idea!"

"Me either," I admitted. "Amazing what they can do these days, isn't it?"

"It is! I mean, some of it is pretty bad, but some of it, even I'd be hard pressed to know it's not real. Do you think a lot of people have searched for this stuff?"

"Before tonight, I have no idea," I laughed. "But I was straight onto it as soon as I saw the show, and so were you. So I think we can guarantee that half the country did the same!"

"Oh, fuck!" Again it was said with delight. She removed her coat. "That's so hot. It's not me, but it is."

I pulled my wife close, and my hand explored, finding that this evening she'd again opted for no knickers, her bare legs clothed only in the knee-high leather boots she wore under the dress.

I spent the rest of the evening watching the back of her head as Suzanne found image after image of her likeness grafted onto debauched scenes with varying degrees of authenticity. As she commented, I fucked her rhythmically from behind.

"Oh, look at this one," she'd invite me, holding up her phone to show me the latest find. I noticed she lingered much longer on the footage of her dealing with more than one man - I found these fascinating too. Suzanne having sex with multiple men had been a fantasy for both of us since the time at college when she'd confessed to being tempted to comply with the request from three of her male classmates to join them after a drunken night out.

The only thing, she'd said, that had stopped her was fear of upsetting me - I was away that weekend and our relationship was young. Having discussed and explored the situation at length, I'd realised that I liked the idea almost as much as she did, possibly even more so. We'd agreed that, should the situation arise again, she should definitely go for it.

However, a rapid ascent into the public eye had made things like that impossible. I'd reminded her that, had she followed her desire and fucked those three men, her career might have taken a very different trajectory. Girls with a penchant for fucking multiple men don't generally last as TV personalities for long. Not unless their name was Sarah Clarke.

Nevertheless, we both felt a sense of missed opportunity. I always became hard as iron when Suzanne whispered about how much she'd like to feel a stranger enter her mouth, as another nudged his way into her willing little pussy. It was a subject that came up frequently when we fucked.

Perhaps it was due to the fact it could never happen, but, along with public exposure, thoughts of being shared around multiple men was Suzanne's favourite topic in the bedroom, and she was fascinated with the hundreds of hours of footage of Sarah Clarke expertly dealing with unending queues of young men, which was the main theme of her website.

And now there was actual footage of the famous Suzanne Sharp surrounded by men, just as she'd dreamed. Some of it was quite obviously very badly faked, but some was surprisingly realistic.

Over the coming months, the SRPV group made some more appearances on 'The Evening Begins'. Suzanne gradually became a figurehead for the campaign against this faked pornography. After each show featuring the topic, she'd come home all flustered and we'd again revel in the discovery of all the new examples of the very porn she was campaigning so hard against.

As Suzanne became more well known for how committed she was in stopping this phenomenon, so the instances increased almost exponentially. Similarly, each segment on her show where she expressed her outrage at the existence of this misogynistic, dangerous and disrespectful violation of her rights was followed by another huge influx of new material. Which, of course, she absolutely loved.