The Browning of America

(Jenny Jackson's 2008 Earth Day entry "The Greening of America" inspired this tale. I would like to thank her for encouraging me to write this.)

(DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional parody. It is not a true story, nor is it approved of by the celebrities or corporate entities named in the story. No harm is intended toward the celebrities or corporate entities mentioned in this story. Furthermore, there is no bestiality in this story, nor are there any illegal actions involving humans and aquatic life.)

FOREWORD

It's the year 2019. Sarah Palin is in her second term as President of the USA. She has privatized all public services. National parks are now funded by corporate sponsors. Mount Rushmore has been renamed Big Five Climbing Park. Yellowstone Park is now called Yamaha ATV Land. Sequoia National Park is known as Weyerhaeuser Tree Museum, housing the last seven remaining redwoods in all of North America.

Alaskan oil has been flooding the market for years, creating a glut of cheap gas. The resulting air pollution is toxic. Even healthy adults require oxy-packs to avoid respiratory distress. The ozone layer has been depleted to the point that prolonged exposure to sunlight causes radiation burns.

The Environmental Protection Agency is now a Right Wing think tank headed by Bill O'Reilly. Expanding on his success with the No Spin Zone, he has introduced clever ad campaigns to reframe the discussion on the environment. His latest slogan: "Dial 1-800-TERRORISM to report environmental communists" has resulted in the imprisonment of thousands of subversive tree-planting extremists and evil-doing home-gardeners surreptitiously wasting water on such things as tomato plants and cantaloupe vines.

There have been grumblings from the left, but they go unheard, since the internet is now regulated by Anne Coulter, head of the FCC. The mainstream media now consists of nothing but Fox News affiliates presenting "sanitized" news suitable for the American public.

This is the world of Penny and Frank, who are visiting Capitol One Cliffs - formerly the Grand Canyon - for the first time.

*****

Frank flashed his credit chip at the automated dispenser. After a brisk humming noise, two fresh oxy-pack canisters clunked out of the chute.

"Can you believe how much they're charging for air these days?" Penny whined,

"Lets not start," Frank sighed, flashing his wife a pleading look. On the one hand, being married to a bleeding heart liberal was sweet and comforting, on the other, it could be incredibly annoying. How many times did he have to point out that God gave us natural resources for the benefit of all mankind, not just members of the Sierra Club?

"Sorry Honey," she said, turning her back so he could heft the heavy canister onto her shoulders. Frank smiled, looking at his wife's trim physic. Perhaps her daily regimen of vitamins and juices and whole grains really was beneficial to her health, in spite of the common wisdom that advocated more efficient processed foods and protein-optimized beverages. She was in excellent shape for a woman of 30, especially in contrast to the rest of society, who's average weight had ballooned by forty pounds since the year 2000.

"I've always wanted to hike the Grand Canyon," she said as Frank bypassed her air filtration system with the certified air in the new canister.

"I think the trip will be bearable, now that there are seven Starbucks between here and the bottom."

"I think it would have been more fun before Starbucks got here," Penny frowned, adjusting the straps on her breathing apparatus.

"Really Penny, you need to think of the needs of the average American. The new escalator, the mall at the bottom of the canyon, the surround-sound disco, it's what the people want. We are the most technologically advanced nation on earth. Why shouldn't we take advantage of our expertise?"

Penny scrunched up her nose at the smell of the Exxon fresh air coursing through her breathing apparatus, which had a decidedly unfresh odor to it. 'Because it's ruining the planet?" she answered patiently. "Being in the out-of-doors used to be a carbon-neutral experience. Now, it's all about energy consumption. I mean, look around. They're pumping dye into the atmosphere to turn it blue, they're manufacturing composite trees and simulated wildlife robots. Where's the integrity in that?

"Honey," Frank chuckled, hooking his arm around her waist, "the free market is never wrong, so just get over it." They ambled off towards the trail head, marveling at the expansive view. Although the smog was so thick it was impossible to see across the canyon, the Capitol One engineers had managed to set up a projection system, beaming the image of the far side of the canyon into the smog cloud, creating a very realistic impression that you actually could see across the canyon.

Rounding the corner of the McDonalds, they stopped in their tracks, staring at the long line stacking up at the top of the escalator.

"Jesus," Penny said to no one in particular, "if they're going to close the trails and make us use their brand new 'pedestrian facilitation system,' they could at least build it big enough to handle the traffic."

Suddenly, a burly Halliburton goon was beside them, balancing noiselessly on his metallic brown Segway scooter. "You two. This way," he grunted in his bored monotone.

"Is there a problem officer?" Frank asked politely. He knew better than to hassle a member of the Halliburton security force.

"Just a random search sir."

Frank's heart sank. Ever since the private sector had taken over security in the United States, accountability had gone out the window. Bored Halliburton employees could snatch anyone off the street for a random search. The fact that the only domestic acts of terrorism since 9/11 had been perpetrated by aging hippies and the occasional overweight philosophy major did not deter the Halliburton goons from choosing the hottest chicks as their targets.

Not only that, but under the guise of anti-sex discrimination, random strip searches were no longer segregated by gender. His wife Penny had been strip searched at least a half a dozen times, and in only one case was there a woman present for the body cavity exam. The rest of the time it was all men, laughing and elbowing each other in the ribs and taking video with their cell phones.

Frank and Penny trudged obediently behind the security guy's Segway, feeling a combination of embarrassment and trepidation. The fact that none of the tourists even noticed their march of shame made it all the more unnerving. Sure, Frank supported the government, but this was the first time the government had actually hauled him in for no apparent reason, and it was a sickening feeling.

After a short walk, a green inflatable quonset hut loomed before them like a giant barrel cactus from a Pixar animation. The security guy led them into a small reception area outfitted with a metal detector, a combo x-ray/body mass/neuron scanner, and several other exotic looking instruments.

"Hello there," a portly, potato-faced woman sneered from behind her metal desk. "This is a random search. You've done nothing wrong." As she talked, she typed noiselessly into her cushion-keyboard. "The random search will take about four hours to process. They're running behind because of a glitch in the latest batch of virtual paper. You know how that goes."

Frank had to laugh to himself. Even though he believed in technology with all his heart, there had been batch after batch of virtual paper that simply wouldn't hold an image. Ever since the Buy American doctrin was reintroduced after the Bush economic collapse, quality had gone out the window - not that anyone knew about it. Information like that never made the news. It was strictly word of mouth, which turned it into urban legend, a convenient way to discount the truth.

"Now," the lady continued, "if you'd like to avoid the four hour wait, we have a product testing session running right now. If you decide to participate, we can have you out of here in an hour and ten minutes."

"Product testing?" Frank asked, always interested in the latest new gadget. "What kind of product?"

"It's lifestyle enhancement equipment," the lady replied, with a hint of a smile creeping onto her puffy face.

"Could you be more specific?" Penny scowled. "We've already tried the negative gravity bed, and the Guitar Hero live band hologram. We're really not looking for that type of lifestyle enhancement."

"It's a study involving virtual reality and sexual response. You either sign here and move on to the testing pod, or you decline and go wait in the random search line."

"Well..." Frank opined, intrigued by the idea. Not wanting to appear over-enthusiastic, he gave his wife a skeptical glance.

"Come on honey," Penny whined, cuddling up to his side. "It's only an hour. We can either do the product testing and let them watch us get our rocks off, or we could go stand in line for four hours for a body cavity search, which would be basically the same thing, but less fun."

Frank smiled. "I suppose, if you look at it that way..."

Penny turned to the receptionist. "Will there be cameras rolling while we're doing the sex part? I really don't want this to end up on YouTube. My husband and I are teachers, and a YouTube sex video could get us both fired."

The desk lady gave her an annoyed scowl. "This is a private study ma'am. Doctor-patient confidentiality is observed. Would you like to validate here?"

"I guess so," Penny shrugged, pulling her credit chip out of her pocket. Frank did the same, trying to hide that fact that his hand was shaking when he scanned the chip. The thought of having sex in front of a bunch of researchers was intimidating, but also exciting, in a perverse sort of way

After getting both validations, the desk lady looked at them sternly. "The confidentiality agreement stipulates that if you reveal any information about this test, you will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Understood?"

"Got it, loud and clear," Frank replied, the pang in the pit of his stomach turning into a nagging ache. On the one hand, he trusted the government one-hundred percent. On the other, the government he so trusted had just tossed him a giant curve ball, and he wasn't sure how to handle it.

"You cool honey?" Penny asked, squeezing his hand. It always amazed him the way his wife could pick up on his moods instantly.

"Yeah Baby. Now I am." He gave her a hug and then they were directed down a long hall where a paunchy young man met them at yet another reception area.

"Penny and Frank, is it?"

"That's us."

"The product testing involves a virtual reality simulator. You will disrobe and have simulated sex with various VR partners. You'll each need an attendant to guide you through the testing procedure. The attendant will be with you at all times. You may choose either male or female, whichever would make you the most comfortable."

The paunchy guy looked over his shoulder as five tanned twenty-something assistants casually strolled into view. They all looked like they had just returned from a Hollywood casting call, with their Colgate smiles and their perfectly toned hard bodies. The women were wearing electric blue skin-tight one piece outfits with tank-style tops, the men in similar outfits but with short sleeves. Instantly, Frank spotted a six foot blonde chick with piercing blue eyes.

"Well," Penny sighed, glancing at the lineup, "I guess I'll take the hippie dude." She turned to Frank. "You're okay with that, right?"

"Of course darling, as long as you're okay with me choosing the blonde amazon woman."

"I'm jealous," Penny pouted, and then she gave him a quick hug. "Where do we go now?"

The paunchy guy pointed at a stainless steel door. "Penny, you go with Connor, the 'hippie dude,' as you refer to him. Frank, Erika will take you to your testing pod."

"We're not doing this together?" Frank blurted, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in.

"No, you'll be in separate pods, but you'll be testing simultaneously, and you'll both be finished at the same time."

Suddenly stricken with second thoughts, Frank reached for his wife, but she was already strolling down the hall.

"Bye Honey," she said, waving as Connor lead her away.

Frank's heart sank, imagining his sweet wife naked in front of Connor and a gaggle of sex researchers. But how many times had she already been naked for the Halliburtion strip searches? Six? Seven? She always got through it, and they would get through this too.

"Come along Frank," Erika said, a hint of a Scandinavian accent giving her words a musical lilt. He followed her, not so much because he trusted her, but because he had no choice. As she led him down the corridor, he had to admit she had a great ass, sort of a combination of a Valentine's Day heart and a pair of volleyballs.

"I like your outfit," he said, watching the jiggle of her shapely ass.

"Most men do," she said, looking straight ahead.

They reached another door and went inside. The space appeared to be a small locker room, like what you might have found at what they used to call a golf course, before water rationing turned them all into dusty ATV parks.

"There's the shower," Erika intoned, as if on automatic pilot. "You have four minutes. There will be a one-minute warning before the water shuts off. When the shower stops, I will exfoliate your pubic area. Here's a robe. Put your clothes in this hamper." She sat down at a small desk and started tapping softly on a touch screen.

"Exfoliate?" Frank gasped. "Nobody said anything about exfoliating."

"It's in the release documents," she sighed, looked up from her task. "Our clients have been very receptive to exfoliation, especially when they return home and experience the enhanced sensitivity with their partners. Those of us who have chosen permanent exfoliation have found it to be a very practical choice. We have a special discount coupon available for permanent exfoliation, if you decide to choose that option at a later date."

"So," Frank said, eyeing Erika as he pulled his shoes off, "how long have you been exfoliated?"

"Since puberty," she said in a bored monotone. "In Sweden, exfoliation is a symbol of national pride. We have the cleanest air and water on earth, and we honor that tradition by keeping our pubic areas clean-shaven. We also have coed saunas, nude tanning parks, and other clothing-optional recreation opportunities where the clean-shaven look enhances the esthetic of the experience."

"You have tanning parks? What do you do about the radiation?"

"Oh, the tanning parks are under inflatable bubbles, much like the structure we're in right now. They're quite pleasant. I'm returning to Sweden next year, so if you and your wife are ever visiting our country, I would be glad to accompany you to a tanning park, or a coed sauna, or wherever you would like to go. The experience we're about to share today will be a life-changing event for you and Penny, and I suspect you and I will be lifelong friends, regardless of whether or not we ever see each other again."

"Cool," Frank grinned, feeling his cock getting heavier at the thought of Erika's bald, tan pussy. By the time he was naked, he was half-hard, but Erika never even looked up from her touch screen.

He showered quickly, practically jumping out of his skin when a women's sultry voice intoned "one minute" through the intercom. Thinking about the impending exfoliation procedure had turned his half-hard cock into a certified hard-on, which was a little disconcerting. When the water shut off and he pulled the shower curtain open, all he could do was grin like an idiot as Erika pulled up a stool and sat down in front of him.

"Sorry about my, uh... guy here," Frank stammered. "He can be a little over-eager sometimes."

"No problem Frank. Approximately eighty-two percent of our clients experience arousal during the exfoliation process. Arousal is helpful, in that it makes the area more accessible. If you feel the need to ejaculate, there is a cup dispenser within reach."

Frank's cock did an involuntary twitch at the word "ejaculate" but he managed to keep his little guy in line as Erika flipped the switch on her Ryobi trimmer. With his hard-on quivered inches from her face, she shaved off his pubic hair with a deftness only experience and good tools can provide. The task was completed in less than a minute.

While she worked on him, he couldn't help but think of Penny, standing there naked letting the hippie dude shave her clean. Would she be enjoying it too? Would her little clit be bursting with desire, poking its shiny head up out of its protective pink folds? Would the granola dude accidentally touch it a few times, making his wife's knees buckle and her heart race? Was thinking about Penny making him jealous? He shook his head, banishing the image from his mind. After all, he had Erika's fingers fluttering lovingly over his cock and balls. Why not just enjoy the moment?

"Aftershave," Erika said, using a pump spray bottle to apply the soothing, tingly solution to his newly-naked skin.

"Thanks," he croaked as she handed him the robe. Pulling it on, he followed her through another door, trying to calm his nerves by concentrating on bounce of her ass. He had to admit, Erika's peachy ass was right up there with Penny's ripe tits in the perfection department. He wondered what it was that made Swedish women's asses so firm. Skiing?

Rounding the corner, they entered a dimly-lit room lined with shiny chrome panels. There was a drain in the center of the tile floor, a large stainless steel sink, and an elaborate bucket seat similar to what a NASCAR driver would use. There were various pneumatic tubes and apparatuses dangling from overhead, and what appeared to be medical monitoring equipment with digital readouts and touch screens surrounding the staging area.

Erika hung her touch screen on a hook and poised her fingers over an old-fashioned QWERTY keyboard. She looked up at him. "A couple of quick questions before we get started. Music preference?"

"Good music? You know, before the artificial intelligence generators came out?" Frank felt strongly about his taste in music. Although he was a firm believer in technology, the new "tonal clusters" they were synthesizing these days were so homogenized and bland, it drove him up the wall.

Erika gave him a knowing glance. "Norah Jones?"

"That'll work," Frank smiled, impressed with Erika's knowledge of classic pop stars from the previous decade. She continued with her spiel.

"As for the personalities portrayed in the simulation, we have three categories: current celebrities, celebrities from the past, and fantasy women, who are computer generated composites of the most beautiful women in history."

Frank pondered for a moment. Helen of Troy? Nefertiti? Marie Antoinette? Preferring to go with a known entity, he asked, "Who do you have in celebrities from the past?"

"At this time, we only have three girls who are one-hundred percent functional, but there will be literally dozens by the time we go to market. Your choices would be Jessica Alba, Pam Anderson, and Halle Barry."

"No Xena?"

"I'm sorry Frank. We do not yet have a simulation for Lucy Lawless, but she's on the list. In fact, her daughter is coming in next week for preliminary testing, since, obviously, Lucy Lawless herself is much too old to give us good data for a model composite."

"So I'm not the only Xena fan, eh?"

"We get many requests for Xena, but mostly from our female subjects." She gave him a quizzical look. "So, out of the three available choices, who would you like to start with?"

"That's easy," Frank laughed. "I'll take Jessica Alba."