Dixie's Demise

HIRANAYA

Hiranaya didn't quite understand what was going on. She'd been an aide to Senator Bierce for just a month or so and had been quite flattered to be invited with the rest of the staff on this little respite.

This ranch was Senator Dixie Bierce's summer place, and it was nice to relax and celebrate the hard work that had gone into passing the bipartisan Dodsworth-Erridge measure.

The hearings had been so stressful...why was the Senator undressing in the middle of the living room? Were they going swimming?

"Get all that crap off now, Dixie. I wish I had my nice cut off garden hose to spur you, you fat piece of shit."

Poodle Widmerpoole, the Senator's executive secretary, and so named because of her fabulous hair, seemed to be snapping her fingers and shrieking at poor Dixie.

Hiranaya's jaw dropped.

"Faster, Dixie. Let's go." Poodle was a tiny brunette. Although she had a loose, curly mane, it was the only relaxed thing about her. Poodle was very tightly wound.

Apparently Dixie was terrified of her!

Senator Dixie Bierce was an overweight dyed blonde, and didn't look that much better without clothes, although she was, and Hiranaya reminded herself, quite brilliant.

Dixie deposited her panties on top of her other clothes in the middle of the floor and stood with her head bowed.

"Now isn't that better." Poodle said acidly. "Now we can see you in your true colors. Remember the last time we had a nice little vacation, at her ski place, and Martin made Dixie go outside and we threw snowballs at her while she danced around naked?"

Hiranaya was startled. Marty Quiggen was the chief of staff. He didn't seem like the sort that would assault his employer with snow balls.

"Feeling better now, since your long winded filibuster back in DC?" Suellen, the communications director said as she lounged next to the mantelpiece.

"Dixie, get over here and rub my feet." Lincoln Plotz, the mail boy said, snapping his fingers.

Hiranaya had been amazed that the staff mail boy would be invited on this venture, but that he now was ordering Dixie...

And yes, Dixie came over to where Linc was resting on the couch, and she knelt and removed his loafers and began rubbing his toes through the weird pink socks.

"You're not bad at that. You should do massage shoeshines at the airport." Lincoln snickered

"Thank you, Lincoln." Dixie said as she rubbed his right foot; Hiranaya noted that it looked as if Dixie was indeed a trained foot massage.

"What did you call me?" Lincoln snatched up one of his loafers and smacked Dixie on the side of the shoulder. "What is my title here?"

"Oh I'm sorry. Master Lincoln."

"Little late now, isn't it?"

Dixie began trembling on her knees.

"Did you enjoy the centipedes and fire ants I put in your bra before you went out on the Senate floor yesterday?" Lincoln laughed, and grabbed Dixie's nose and twisted it slightly.

"Lincoln, I need her back!" called Poodle. "Get back here and fold your clothes, Dixie. You're such a pig. I know you have a maid at home, but this is your weekend to shine."

Hiranaya wondered if she should leave. Everyone was going nuts. Jeremiah, the legislative correspondent was snickering with Rhonda, the Senator's scheduler, and Gretchen, the press secretary was lighting a cigarette and giving one to Poodle.

That was really odd. No one smoked inside anymore-was Gretchen throwing a lit match at the Senator as she scurried naked, across the floor, her cellulite ridden butt jiggling?

Senator Bierce didn't smoke at all, and had volunteered for an antismoking campaign, though she did take tobacco money.

Jesus, was Poodle flicking sparks from her cigarette at Dixie's eyes? God, Poodle must be insane.

"Goddamnit, Dixie, fold your clothes" Poodle screamed at the Senator. As Dixie Bierce began frantically folding her pantsuit bottom Poodle kicked her in her corpulent buttocks.

Now Poodle was using the Senator's nipple as an ashtray. Hiranaya felt a little ill.

But Dixie was tough. Look at her biting her lip and standing so still as Poodle really ground that cigarette into the areola.

Suddenly, Gretchen noticed Hiranaya's look of horror. "Shit, no one briefed Hiranaya on this, did they?"

POODLE

Poodle dragged Dixie into the small bathroom by the ear.

"Is there a problem, Mistress?" Dixie asked piteously. Her head was tilted as Poodle was mercilessly dragging her ear down.

"Yes, you grotesque coelacanth, there's a big problem." Poodle shook Dixie's head vigorously.

"You forgot to remind us to vet the new staffer, to warn her about your kinky side. She must think we're kidnapping you out there."

"Oh no. I-"

Poodle slapped Dixie. "I was so nice, giving in when you begged to have Hiranaya come, and I didn't blame you, she's a hot one. But what now? You are an IDIOT!"

"Oh dear." Dixie bit her lip. She contrasted so much to tiny Poodle, who was a former ballerina.

Dixie stood next to Poodle, her bulky naked body sweating slightly.

"You'd think with all the protocol it takes to become an elected official, you'd have the sense for remembering who you invite, the debriefing and warnings."

Dixie watched with terrified interest as Poodle picked up the bath brush and began fingering it with her purple nails.

"I mean, you are so brilliant, right? First member of the family to finish high school, law school, Mayor, Congresswoman, now Senator, no scandals at all."

"But I just didn't think this time-"

"Shut up, you ignorant warthog. You know you're a pathetic and vacuous cow, for God's sake.

You have to keep it from your pro-life white trash electorate that you suck my heel and take thrashings-now bend over the toilet, you fool. I'm going to remind you of your responsibilities"

Dixie's lower lip trembled. "P-please don't blame me for this Miss Poodle. I just lost track-"

Poodle casually whacked Dixie across the left breast with the bath brush and Dixie began crying softly.

"God I remember the girls like you in school." Poodle snorted. "The flabby honor students, the Mathletes. We all thought you'd be humble because you were so repulsive, but you were always entitled...

Making fun of us, the cheerleaders, ordering us around in our work-study jobs in the library. I remember when I met you at Buttermilk State, you were such an entitled bitch, till I found out your little secret."

It had been really something. Poodle had been going through the sorority mail, and discovered that Dixie subscribed to "Bondage Slut Monthly".

And then Dixie confessed that she, a junior had always fantasized about the little freshman giving her a spanking...

Fifteen good years later...

"Just a priggy asshole, that was you, Dixie."

Poodle punctuated this sentence with another whack on Dixie's tit. Poodle wished they were at Dixie's town house so she could make Dixie kneel naked in the cold basement garage for an hour or two.

"And I've been pimping for you, training these pathetic aides to be your Masters. God, quit whimpering. That fat, gross, sagging, flabby D cup udder of yours can take a little pounding, but I want your ass whipped. Get over the toilet right now!"

Dixie hesitated again. "What will we tell Hiranaya? She could go to the press."

Poodle gave the Senator a cold smile. "I've got that covered, but now I'm thinking of shaving your head while we're in here...

You could wear a wig for the rest of the term, it might teach you humility and obedience when I tell you to bend over the toilet."

Dixie gulped and bent over the commode.

"It's a shame, you know, Dixie." continued Pepper as she gave the air some practice swings with the bath brush. "If you weren't such a sloth, you could grab your ankles for a whipping, like you used to be able to do, but with that massive gluttony gut of yours, you can barely bend over."

Dixie began crying again, trying not to be too loud. She knew that Poodle would gag her with a roll of T.P. if she made too much noise.

Poodle chuckled and lifted the bath brush and swung it hard against the Senator's gluteus expanse.

JEREMIAH

"So you see it's kind of a kinky thing? Hiranaya, I know you're an innocent, but you must have read about this on the Internet."

"Um, I think so, Jeremiah. Whips and chains?"

Jeremiah chuckled indulgently. God to get this little Pakistani's clothes off. It would happen if Hiranaya relaxed.

"Well, sort of. Not quite that harsh. The Senator is a vain, purse-proud demagogue, and has to be reminded of what a worthless toad she is in order to hold up in front of the crowds."

"Well, Senator Bierce-"

"You might as well call her Dixie now. Listen to her screaming in the John. Poodle is beating the shit out of her."

What was Poodle using? Jeremiah had the scourge in his briefcase and the "Electric Eel.." was still in the trunk of Dixie's Maserati.

Poodle knew how to find the pain, she did. Last week, after the McCullough hearing, Poodle had taken a small cactus plant that a grateful voter had sent...

And shoved it up Bierce's twat just before her speech to the party.

That had been wild. Poodle had warned Dixie to hold her legs together so the plant wouldn't fall out, and poor Dixie had been near tears, her poor clit, during the whole talk...

But then Dixie had masturbated just madly afterwards, and had tenderly licked Poodle's cunt for nearly an hour in the Senate Cloakroom.

Dixie, oddly, was the happiest of them all.

Jeremiah leaned towards Hiranaya.

"I think you should be honored that Dixie wants to be punished and humiliated in front of you, Hiranaya. It means, besides the fact she's hot for you, that you are part of the gang."

Hopefully Hiranaya wouldn't sue for sexual harassment.

"It's kind of gross" But Hiranaya smiled shakily. Jeremiah tried to look sympathetic, but he really wanted to put his dick in Hiranaya's mouth.

Usually Jeremiah got non-stop beejays from the Senator, of course but wouldn't it be nice to fool around with the eye candy a little?

DIXIE

It was just past midnight, and Dixie had almost finished her rounds. She'd gone to each bedroom and eaten or sucked her staffers to orgasm. Five girls, three boys.

Dixie had cooked and served dinner, and knelt in the corner, slurping Alpo out of a dog dish while her workplace subordinates enjoyed the ornate meal.

Now and then, one of the diners would ring a little bell, and Dixie would rise to re-fill wine glasses or bring more food, and she'd endured more than her share of cuffs for serving "errors."

After dinner, Jeremiah and Shrevie, Dixie's driver, had bound her over the ottoman and everyone had taken turns throwing darts at her tremendous bottom, on which a red and white swirled target had been painted by Bernadette, her graphic artist.

Dixie was so exhausted, and tomorrow, after she rose and cooked and served breakfast, they'd all be riding and she'd have to run behind, spurred on by her private groom, who rode a Palomino and took a swing or three at her sweaty bottom.

But now, Dixie shakily knocked on Hiranaya's door. Was Hiranaya asleep? Hiranaya had really been freaked out at first, but now it seemed she was more relaxed, and had even thrown a dart at Dixie's butt.

It was incredibly risky. Dixie's opponents in the other party would give anything to bring down the pro-gun, pro-life, pro-military female war-horse...

"Come in?"

There was Hiranaya's hesitant voice. Dixie blushed, as she was still naked from the early afternoon, and stepped into the bedroom.

"Senator Bierce?" Hiranaya peeked over the covers.

"Slave Dixie, your humble servant." Dixie corrected with a wry smile. "At least until we get back to D.C."

"Y-yes?"

"I've come to ask if you'd like some oral favor, Miss Hiranaya."

There was a pause, and then a cruel laugh. "Sure. Why not? You can kiss my feet, too. I found the cut off garden hose Poodle was looking for."

Dixie gasped. Hiranaya had caught on fast.

Hiranaya got out of bed, the football shirt she used as a nightie clinging to the swell of her breasts.

"I think I can work out the stress you put on me back in Washington, when you criticized my sentence structure in the speech I wrote for you."

Dixie was shocked.

"Yes, Senator. You see, before I finished my graduate degree...I did work in a dungeon. It just took me a little while to adjust to the fact that my new boss was such a puss-bag. You think this little Indian girl is that timid? Let's give you a few licks with this, before you return the favor with your tongue."

"Yes ma'am."