Hot for Hillary (Rodham Clinton)


"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.


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 pain - and 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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