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Monday, April 22, 2013

Dear Mr. President

         The doors slid shut behind the imposing figure of the President’s personal body guard, his slender but rippling muscles looking like they were about to spill out from under the light standard-issue ceramic armor he wore. He turned to the slight woman beside him and whispered in Kathleen’s ear.

Her pulse instantly quickened and her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if she was excited because the bodyguard was so tall and gorgeous or because she was about to complete her research on the youngest President in history. The man beside her’s poise and confidence told her that maybe she wasn’ t the first but that didn’ t matter to Kathleen; she was completely compliant, nay, exhilarated. The opportunity to sleep with a President, especially one so handsome, would put the literal icing on her research.

She was politely ushered to the state bedroom, her hand tucked into the crook of the agent’s elbow. The room was spartanly furnished, like most of the capitol since the many attempts on the Chief of State’s life, with thick steel walls and only a large posh bed with satin sheets and an oak writing desk that looked like it had survived four fires and a car bomb. The bodyguard opened the door, spoke into his radio, and cleared his throat, a strangely bleak expression on his face, “The President’s time is limited. Please be ready and the President will join you shortly.”

Kathleen glanced in the tarnished mirror that was embedded in the wood of the desk, and giggled despite herself. Her perfectly smooth bob was done in the classic style of Jackie “O,” and it had made her smirk a little too herself when she had been introduced to the First Lady and they both had the same hair. The President’s wife had given her a look that could have soured milk. She had given her Apricot Silk Dress with its clinging curves and plunging neckline an even dirtier look, and had walked away stiffly while the hired bodyguards exchanged knowing looks and scowled.

Kathleen looked back at the man in the door and cleared her throat, “Are you planning on staying to watch?” she asked with a sneer.

“No, Ma’am.” The man turned to leave and then gave her a sly glance, “My name is Zet, by the way.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “ I’m happy for you. Good night.”

Zet frowned and nodded as he pushed the door open and mumbled something into his radio. Kathleen glanced at herself in the mirror again, and the dress slid to the floor and she stood admiring the way her black bustier made her already amble bosom perk like a teenager’s. As ridiculous as she had felt when she’d poured herself into it before the party, Kathleen couldn’ t help but admire her look and frankly, she could feel herself moisten in anticipation. The lace garter belt that was looped over ivory silk panties gave her a sense of vixen mixed with youthful virginity, and her dark brown hair accentuating the ivory accents of her corset boning. In essence, the situation couldn’ t have been more


She sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned backwards into her best sex kitten pose, trying to ignore the fact that she couldn’ t breathe at all and that there were some mysterious stains on the champagne colored sheets. Seconds later, the door opened and the President strolled in, replete with the power of his position and a dollop of calamari and spinach dip on his tie. A slight gasp came from Kathleen’s mouth involuntarily and he moved quickly to close the distance between them, his face strangely impassive. After an incredibly cold “good evening” the President reached out and grabbed her hand and roughly pulled her to her feet. Kathleen let her other hand brush against his cheek only to

have her advance rudely rebuffed. “Please don’ t touch me. Place both your hands on the bed and please don’ t speak.”

Kathleen complied and looked back over her shoulder with her best coquettish look only to find him staring at her with all the fondness of a man looking at what he had excreted into the toilet that morning. The President’s pants were already at his ankles and his penis, his rather meager penis, was poking through the fly hole of his boxers.

Kathleen didn’ t see him put on the condom and although she only had a second to look, it appeared that the condom might already have been used once that evening. Kathleen began to turn away from the President when he grabbed the back of her neck and forced her head flush with the bed coverings. His other hand roughly pulled her panties askew and he entered her with no tenderness or foreplay. After twelve quick strokes the President released and before Kathleen could protest he was out of the room and back to the reception and the arm of his wife.

Maybe it was the shock of being so grossly accosted or maybe it was the searing insensitivity but Kathleen began to cry with her face planted on the rich bed coverings of the Lincoln bedroom. After a few minutes, the door quietly opened again and Kathleen spun to give the President her full thoughts on the matter when she saw the same agent as before. She pushed her body flat against the bed and readjusted her panties in hopes or reestablishing some dignity despite her lack of clothing.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

 Kathleen looked up sharply and saw Zet standing in the doorway, his eyes hidden behind his glasses.

“Yes…I mean...” she just stammered, and looked down at her underpants.

“ I’m sorry. The President is….well, frankly, he’s a bastard.”

”Can…can you say that?”

“ I’d like to apologize for what just happened. I hope you know that the Capitol in all it’s official capacity isn’ t responsible for the President’s behaviors.”

“That’s a rather clinical analysis. That man is a monster.”

She felt hot, shameful tears spilling down her face, and she tipped her face away to hide them.

“Yes, but he is the President, and frankly, there’s isn’t anyone who can fix his behavior except maybe his wife but I believe she has given up on that battle.”

“ I see. Could you excuse me so I can get dressed?”


“Excuse me.”

“You’ re not going to like what I am going to say. If you walk out that door and back into the reception, every eye will lift and every mouth will hold a smirk as you perform the walk of shame. The President’s lack of discretion is no secret and since the guests can’ t condemn him then their disgust will be directed at you, your wrinkled dress, your mussed hair, and smeared makeup.”

Kathleen openly stared at him, the cruelty of the situation making her pale,

“What can I do?”

“Stay here.”

“Here? In the state bedroom?”


“For how long?”

“The reception will end in two hours.”

“ Isn’ t there the chance that the President will return with another victim?”

“This is…well…indelicate, the President is done for the night.”

“Was I the second or third?”

“You saw the condom, didn’ t you?”

The man couldn’ t contain the disgust that accompanied his words.

“What makes someone that hideous?”

“ I’d rather not comment. I’m as offended as you are.”

“What should I do? How will I get out of here when the party is over?”

“ I will escort you out.”

“You’ ll come back.”

“No. I’ ll stay with you. A woman assaulted the way you were is a danger to the President.”

Kathleen stood up quickly and moved to the desk to collect her dress.

“This is creepy. The President uses me, and then you want to spend two hours with me while I sit here in my lingerie.”

“ If you calm down a bit, I think you’ ll find the experience quite different. And besides I have no way of getting you out of the building for two hours.”

Zet moved towards Kathleen and let his hand rest against her cheek. His other hand pulled her dress gently but firmly from her hand and he spun her so that she faced the tarnished mirror again. Kathleen saw her other-decade image in the mirror and when the bodyguard’s mouth began to gently nuzzle her neck while his hands rubbed her shoulders, Kathleen shivered, and tipped her head back against his shoulder, the deep horror and disappointment in her gut fading away abruptly. She turned towards him and he delivered the warmest, most sensual kiss that reignited her spark that had been lost minutes earlier.

With a wry smile, Kathleen dropped to her knees and unhooked the man’s belt and pants. What emerged was more than ample and, in Kathleen’s eyes and mouth, impressive. Two hours later, Kathleen emerged from the state bedroom completely at ease and fully satisfied.

As Kathleen and Zet turned a corner, the President appeared in his bathrobe. He gave both of them a cold look of Presidential disdain as if they were no more important

than a strand of carpet. Kathleen couldn’ t contain herself. She let her eyes glide to the crotch of his pants and she let out a disdainful smirk as she pulled herself closer to Zet’s corded chest.

The Love Machine whirred to a stop, and Kathleen emerged from the chamber.

“Where did you get that memory? It’s amazing.”

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