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Hot for Hillary [Rodham Clinton] (6/6)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
HOT FOR HILLARY (RODHAM CLINTON) (6/6)
By B. Traven
"Now, do me, John." Hillary Rodham Clinton crawled up on the bed and stuck
her pussy in his face. He immediately lapped at it hungrily. After a few
minutes she came loudly, screaming his name.
She held his head and rubbed the back of his head tenderly for while.
He felt ashamed of course, as he laid there spent and energyless. But there
wasn't much he could have done tied up like that. He forced himself to
concentrate on the restraint on his left hand.
Hillary got off the bed and reached in her black bag again. She pulled out
a tube of something. He started feeling a sense of dread deep in his gut.
"Hillary, untie me. Let's just hold each other." he said warmly.
She ignored him.
"Just an ointment for your love wounds. You'll be sore otherwise in the
morning."
She rubbed it into his burning ass. It did feel better. She careful traced
each welt and applied the ointment with loving care.
He, then, felt her finger in his crack, gently rubbing. Hillary's finger
found his anus and started rubbing there. It felt good and a warmth spread
through his loins. She pushed slightly and met resistance.
"Just relax, John." she cooed.
She pushed her index finger into his ass. It felt good. He relaxed and
Hillary's finger slid into his ass up to the knuckle. He was aroused now,
rubbing his erection against the smooth sheets.
"You ole hetero, you, I think you like that." she laughed.
"It's not unusual the anus is an errogenous area with many nerves and blood
vessels. It's nothing to ashamed of." She inserted a second finger and he
spread his legs to relieve some of the pressure.
Suddenly she removed her fingers. Leaving his anus feeling empty and
unfulfulled. She removed something else from her bag and stood direct behind
him. He strained his head to see what she was doing, but Hillary was just
out of sight.
"Hillary?"
She moved to the side of him where he could see her. She had a large black
dildo fastened at her hips - and a wicked smile.
"Hillary!" he screamed.
"John, just lay back and relax." She applied generous globs
of ointment to the dildo, stroking it lovingly.
"Do you like my cock, John?" she asked.
"Hillary, not this, please." he pleaded.
"You fucked me right? You shoved your cock into me - and I certainly not
complaining - but what's the matter with a little turn about?"
"Let me fuck you, John." She climbed up on the bed and positioned herself
behind him. She kissed the back of his neck. "You know I always get
my own way."
"I love you, John." He felt the tip of the dildo at his asshole, probing.
He could feel her breasts pressed against his back, the nipples hard.
"Uhhh. . ." he cried as she pushed.
"Just relax, John. I'll rip you up otherwise." she warned.
She pushed but still met resistance. She reached under him and grabbed his
cock. She played with it. Then, Hillary slid in past his sphincter muscle.
He felt full. It still hurt but the pressure on his sphincter had been
released. His left hand slowly worked at the knot. it seemed to loosen
slightly.
"Relax, John." she commanded. She slid in further, taking his breath away.
The knot at his left wrist was definately looser now. He pulled at some more.
"The hard part is over. Now is the fun part."
Hillary started thrusting lightly at first then harder. He found it hard
to concentrate as she fucked his ass. The knot was almost untied. He gave
it a hard tug as Hillary thrust deeper into his rectum. It came free!
In one quick motion he streached his arm and grabbed the gun off the endtable.
"No!" she yelled. Hillary unmounted him and grabbed at the gun. Quickly he put
the safety on, and threw it under the bed. She went for his eyes, and he
threw her across the room with his one free hand. The back of her head hit
the far bedroom wall. As quickly as he could he tore off the remaining
scarfs and ran over to Hillary sprawled out on the floor with the glistening
black dildo still sticking out prominently from her crotch.
He held her head.
"Hillary, are you alright?" he brushed aside her blond hair and
kissed her forehead tenderly.
"Yes. I guess." she said weakly.
"Come and lay down." He picked her up - she looked so small - and carried
to the bed. He held her but the dildo pressed against his ribs.
Disgusted, he reached behind her and found the catch on the dildo strap. He
undid the catch and pulled the angry-looking dildo away. It caught on
something as he pulled it away, and he discovered it was a two-headed dildo
with the other end still buried into Hillary's pussy. As careful as he
could he pulled the dildo from Hillary. It came free with a slight popping
sound and was glistened with Hillary's wetness. He looked agast at
the size of the digusting thing - it was at least 8 inches at each end with
a healthy diameter. He through it across the room.
He kissed her again. She seemed to be alright, just a little groggy.
She returned his kiss.
"I love you, Hillary." He just wanted to hold and protect this beautiful
lady forever.
"I love you too, John." she said warmly. She, then, hit him full in the face
with the riding crop.
"Bastard! No one dominates me." she screamed.
His left eye was watering from the blow. He grabbed her arms and held her
firm.
"That's enough, Hillary." She kicked at balls, sending paralyzing pain
through his body. He doubled over.
"You bitch!" he screamed. She saw the look in his eye and responded in fear.
He tied her up face down on the bed. He thought to himself that he was
doing that for her protection, but when he saw her shapely bare ass wiggling
as she struggled her started getting other ideas.
He greased his cock up with the ointment and mounted Hillary from behind.
Her soft buttocks felt good against his cock. He positioned himself, placing
his cock in Hillary's crack.
"You bastard! Don't you dare. I'll kill you!" He was well beyond rational
thinking now. He only wanted to dominate Hillary, now. Fuck her ass until
she screamed for more. He understood what Hillary had been saying to him
before. We have roles hard-wired in our psyche. He had found himself slipping
into the role of slave before and now he was the 'top' - the master.
"Just relax, Hillary" He was amused he could use her own words back at him.
He found Hillary asshole and pushed against it. It didn't budge. He pushed
harder and managed to get the head of his cock into her. She was very tight.
He reached around her and found her nipples. He pinched them lightly as
he kissed the back of her ear. He pulled harder at Hillary's nipples,
and started pinched them cruelly. It was having a effect, and he found himself
slidding deeper into Hillary's rectum. She had stopped swearing at him, and was only moaning in painand maybe pleasure.
"Give it up, Hillary. Remember that I love you." He bit at her earlobe and
pulled on her nipples. He felt the tension drain from her body, and he
slid all the way into Hillary Rodham Clinton's ass. He paused for
a moment to allow her body to adjust to his intrusion.
"Fuck me." she said suddenly.
"What?" he was startled.
"Fuck my ass, John. It belongs to you." He need no more encouragement and
starting fucking her ass. He tried to be careful to minimize her pain but
she egged him on.
He was thrusting hard now, taking out all of pent-up anger and confusion on
Hillary's ass.
He was close to coming, and she pushed her bottom back against him, causing
him to ejaculate heavily in spurts into her ass. She had come at the same
time, and turned to kiss him with great fondness and affection.
They fell asleep like that with Hillary still tied face-down on the bed, and
John astride her nearly naked body. He woke up first and found his cock,
now soft, still pressed between Hillary's buttocks. She awoke and felt him
stirring against him.
"Let's do it again, John." she said happily.
"Let me untie you, first, Hillary."
"No, like before, please." She pushed her ass against him causing his
cock to throb.
"You know the right button to press, Hillary." he kissed her cheek.
"No, you do, John. I've never let any man - or woman - take me the way
you did."
He greased her asshole tenderly with the ointment. Her sphincter still seemed
dilated from before.
He inserted his cock and it slid effortless all the way into Hillary's ass.
He felt engulfed with her heat. She felt like a velvet glove tightly gripping
his cock. He began to thrust, and she responding immediately.
Just, then, he heard a key at the front door. Instinctly, he grabbed his
gun from under the bed and turned the light off.
He threw a blanket over Hillary and made a gesture for her to be quiet.
He kneeled down with his back to Hillary and held his
gun with both hands in a shooter's stance, aiming it at the door.
The door creaked opened but no one appeared.
"John. Hold your fire. Can you hear me?"
It was Art's voice. What was he doing here?
"John, it's me Art. I'm going to step in. Hold your fire."
Art entered the door cautiously.
John lowered his gun.
"What's going on Art?"
He, then, saw the shadows of others in the hallway.
A large man with a familiar boyish face entered the room behind Art.
"Mr. President?" Clinton stepped around Art and entered the bedroom.
"Get the fuck out of here, Bill." Hillary said behind him. John suddenly
realized he was naked and felt a hot rush of embarassment.
He picked up his bundle of clothes, awkwardly holding the clothes
against his crotch with one hand, and his gun pointed to the floor with the
other.
"I ought to shake your hand", Clinton said in his amiable drawl,
"but I see your hands are pre-occupied." Clinton smiled but John just
stood there nonplussed.
"This is none of your business, Bill. Get the fuck out of here.",
Hillary screamed in a shrill voice.
Clinton pulled the blanket off of Hillary, exposing Hillary tied face
down to the bed bare assed except for her leather corset and boots.
"Mmmm, mmmm." Clinton said mockingly, "Can I play, too?"
"I've waited a long time to see Hillary like this."
Clinton grabbed the riding crop from the floor and struck Hillary hard on
the ass. Peterson wanted to grab the riding crop from Clinton and save her.
Clinton looked back at Peterson.
"Now step aside and let a real man take over."
Peterson stood his ground.
Clinton looked over to Art.
"Get him the fuck out of here." Clinton turned back to Hillary and swatted
her ass again.
"I feel your pain, Hillary." Clinton joked.
Art touched Peterson's shoulder, trying to gently get him to leave, but
Peterson resisted.
Peterson wanted to bust Clinton in the mouth. He caught the lost look in
Hillary's longing eyes.
"Go John, you can't do anything." she said between whimpers.
"I feel your pain, oh, yes." Clinton enthusiastically hit her again with a
loud slap.
"John ..." Art nudged him again, and reluctantly John followed him into
the hall. Art closed the door behind them.
In the hall were two other men. One man, John recognized as Louis Freeh,
Director of the FBI who gave Peterson a cross look.
Peterson started putting on his clothes.
"Look, John, everything's cool." Art explained.
"We've been monitoring you and Hillary for some time."
"What'll you going to do - haul me away to prison. Hillary and I
are consenting adults in this."
"No, nothing like that, John. The President wanted a man who was
tough enough to break Hillary. The FBI did a psychological profile
on you and determined that you would be an ideal candidate for the job.
He tried a close and trusted friend before and he met with tragic
consequences. Perhaps, you've heard of Vince Foster? Vince was a
broken man after Hillary was done with him."
Peterson was incredulous.
"I've been set up, then." Peterson growled. He could hear muffled
blows through the door.
"John, you were the right man for the job, and you did it well.
The President is pleased." Art said reassuring.
"You did give us a few scares earlier on, but you came on top in
end.", Art laughed.
Peterson just glowered.
Art handed him a plane ticket.
"Look, John, just catch a flight back to DC, and take a few days off.
Things will look better later. I told you everything's cool."
"Just get the fuck out of my sight, Peterson", Freeh spoke with a sneer.
He could still hear muffled cries from Hillary's room, and his heart
sank. Peterson walked sadly back to his room.
**
Peterson made a redeye flight back to DC. The next morning he sat
in front of his television watching the news while sipping on a beer.
"... The President paid a surprise visit to Chicago last night
to visit Mrs. Clinton who was speaking the AMA convention on the
new Clinton healthcare plan." Katie Couric announced.
A camera shot showed Clinton and Hillary standing together on a stage,
smiling.
"People are already talking about a new closeness never publically
seen before between the President and the First Lady."
The camera showed a close-up of Clinton and Hillary holding hands together.
"Their partnership on the healthcare plan seemed to have brought the
First Couple closer together."
"And other news, in Los Angeles ..."
Peterson turned off the television and groaned.
**
Peterson knew he could not go back and face Hillary or Clinton. He
typed up a letter of resignation, stating that he was leaving for
better opportunities in the private section.
A few days later Peterson came home from grocery shopping and found an
attache case on his bed. He pulled out his gun and searched his
apartment. There was no one there and no sign of a forced entry.
He cautionly opened the attache case and discovered a letter of
recommendation signed by the President. On top of a pile was
was a glowing recommendation profuse with praise for his services.
Under that letter was another letter of recommendation,
also glowing in its praise, signed by Hillary.
His eyes picked out the words "sad to see Mr. Peterson leave".
Underneath, the second letter was several neat stacks of hundred dollar
bills. He counted $100,000 in total.
**
Peterson bought his way back into his old security business. His partner
was glad to see the amount of money he was able to invest into the business.
The next day a package arrived via parcel post. It contained no return
address. He opened it. It contained a small object wrapped in tissue
paper and a card. He unwrapped the object and discovered a delicate
crystal rose that he knew had to be expensive.
The card read:
I missed saying goodbye to you, John. I appreciate everything
you've done for me; and I wish things could have turned out better
between us. Please take this small gift. Roses have always held a
special meaning for me. A rose is beautiful, but can be painful if
you get too close and prick yourself on a thorn. A good description of
me maybe? I also worked at the Rose law firm in Little Rock.
Take this gift and think of me when you see it.
I will love you always,
H.
Peterson fought back tears.
**
One evening Peterson was feeling especially lonely, and decided to call
Becky. Although, they had parted amiably they had not talked socially
since the divorce. She seemed happy to hear from him. They filled each
other in on what had happened in their lives.
Had he heard that she was finally named a partner in the firm?, she had
asked. Yes, he had heard it from a friend. Before he said goodbye,
not sure what her answer would be, he invited Becky over to dinner at his
apartment. Becky said yes that would be nice.
The next day, full of nervous energy, like a teenager on his first date.
He went out and bought groceries for their dinner. He wanted everything
perfect. He bought an expensive wine, good steaks and salad fixings. He added
bought candles and flowers - yellow roses. He also made a side trip to make
a purchase in darkly lit shop that he had never before frequented.
Their dinner by candlelight was perfect and romantic. It recaptured for
both of them the magic of the early dates together - magic that they
thought was gone forever.
She picked up the crystal rose on his mantle, and admired its beauty in
the candlelight.
"Such a beautiful rose. Where did you get this, John?"
"From a friend." he replied.
Later that evening they kissed and made out a little on the couch.
He, then, led her into the bedroom. They peeled off each others
clothes, surprising each other that they could be so eager for each
other after 5 not-so-good years of marriage together.
She picked up a strange-looking object from his end table.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A riding crop." he replied.
"I didn't know you took up horse riding, John."
"I didn't.", he said with a wicked smile.
**
John and Becky re-married a month later. Everyone said they were foolish
to put themselves through that misery again, but he knew it would be different
this time. A few months later Becky discovered that she was pregnant.
They bought a house together and decorated the nursery in preparation
for the new addition to their little family.
Becky cut back on her hours at work, and they grew closer together in a
deeper love for each other than they had ever known.
John was happy - he finally had control in his life.
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