Ultimate Voyeur Cam

By | March 11, 2011

Assessor Evans (DE46952) took pride in his work. He could exercise a level of detachment that his instructors at the Assessor training academy had marvelled at, rewarded him with the highest of marks. His ability to evaluate over-quotas and credit fraud were legendary, his reputation impeccable.

There was a knock at the door of his dimly lit assessment suite. A dour woman about thirty-five but with the demeanour of a septuagenarian spinster entered unbidden and presented him with a case file in an A4 manila folder. Evans nodded to her and waited until she left the room. He opened the slim wallet and removed its contents, a single optical storage cube three centimetres across, and slid it into the arm of his chair. He settled back into the soft leather of the reclining chair as the simulation loaded.

The chair was the only item of furniture in the room. The walls, floor and ceiling were covered with sound deadening materials, matt black and receding into the shadows as the light dimmed to pitch darkness. As the familiar tingling caused by the neural stimulators danced across his skin he let himself become immersed in evidence.

Evans found himself in the midst of probably the largest catalogue of sexual experiences he’d ever encountered. Each event in the sex lives of the couple being assessed, recorded, classified and archived for reference and evaluation. Figures rolled in front of him quantifying the prodigious number of encounters these two people shared, both before their union as a couple and since.

It was arduous work, but Evans, true professional saw it to the end. And after hours of hyper-compressed artificial sensory stimulation one event stood out.

He was standing in a meadow in midsummer. The couple had set out a picnic in the long grass, amongst the flowers. They ate, then kissed, then drank some wine and kissed a little more. By mid afternoon, after a short nap in each others arms they stirred and with a slow, sensuousness, purposefulness began to undress one another.

Her breathing became shallow and rapid as strong loving hands slipped the blouse from her shoulders, exposing a delicately lacy white bra. It cupped her sun-kissed breasts forming a deep cleavage, inviting him in. He buried his head between her plump mounds, the stubble on his chin prickling the soft skin, snagging on the material. She pulled his face hard against her, almost suffocating him.

When he was released from his soft prison they began the unhurried removal of the rest of their clothes. His shirt, her jeans, his trousers her knickers, his tight fitting underwear, her bra, alternating so as to savour the undressing and being undressed by the other’s hands.

Naked and proud he knelt over her supine form, his cock quivering at the opening to her moist entrance. The desire and love in her eyes stirred Evan’s heart in a way that he had not felt since the Ministry had begun his chemical normalisation1. That was why this moment stayed with him and more than any of the wild and adventurous encounters recorded on their file gave rise to the verdict he eventually passed.

The man pressed his glans against her waiting furrow and slowly became one with her. In a smooth movement she raised her legs and wrapped them around his waist. The leisurely, yet passionate ballet that followed drew Evans in from his position as silent, invisible watcher of the two simulated protagonists. He felt himself wanting to share in this union, yet knowing it was but a recording, a depiction of events from summers past, a pale echo of a passion expressed years before.

After a time the woman wrapped her arms around the man’s neck. He pulled himself up to a kneeling position, and her with him. She lowered her feet to the floor and began to raise and lower herself on his shaft. Their stares were locked together now, each wanting to see the climax of the other’s passion in the windows to their souls.

Her hair streamed down her back, dancing in the sun. Evan wanted to reach out and touch it, to feel its softness, to lift it to his face and smell its aroma.

When the sweet moment arrived Evans found himself watching with an anticipation that made him hold his breath, until their gasping, grasping orgasm allowed him to release the contents of his lungs in a long shuddering breath.

Hours later, the review of the recordings were complete, years of experiences captured from the couple’s neural monitors compressed into an afternoon’s work. The lights slowly brightened, rousing an exhausted Evans from his assessment state. A virtual screen appeared before him, translucent and glowing, generated by his own artificial synaptic stimulators. One questions was displayed.

“Are the couple guilty of fraudulent over-indulgence in sexual acts in contravention of the European Sexual Control Directive 2028?”

There could only be one answer, Evans’ hand rose and “pressed” the shimmering “Guilty” button floating in the air before him. The storage cube rose out of the arm of the chair. Almost immediately an administrator from the enforcement department entered and retrieved the cube, popping it into its envelope and hurrying off.

Evan lay back considering his pivotal role in the pan-Eurasian governments intense programme of social conditioning. There was little crime now, no riots, no protests, no wars, harmony prevailed.

But where was the passion? It still existed in just a few of his fellow citizens, and it was the enforcement department’s job to ensure they didn’t get away with that sort of behaviour.

Evan smiled to himself. He pressed a concealed button on the arm of the chair and deftly palmed the freshly copied storage cube as it was ejected. A perk of the job, to add to his collection, an unsurpassed archive of human sexual experience. And very, very illegal.

1. Chemical normalisation: The removal by drugs of the desire for physical intimacy and need for sexual gratification.