The President's Gay Wife Pt. 01

Chapter 1

Right-thinking people of the mineral-rich Republic of Oceanpacifica were shocked when the Freedom Guardian published the riveting picture of the President's wife, The Most Honorable the Marchioness of Fitzroy, fully unclothed. The big shock was Lady Magnolia was pictured in the arms of another woman, on her back and also unclothed.

The reaction throughout the nation was, in short, 'Ohmigod!'

Public focus soared from ass to hotly debated discussion about the morality of the country's leading lady, although in truth she was relatively unknown to the masses even in the capital Freedom, formerly known as New Wimbledon. The media slammed into the fray like blowflies over a carcass. The resultant headlines in the Echo newspaper that afternoon and introductory sentences on radio and TV news bulletins ranged from inclusion of solemn wordage, 'End of an Era of Proprietary' to a frivolous, 'What The Marchioness of Fitzroy Does Next Will be Interesting'.

Immediately the conservative Echo called on the absent President, the Marquess of Fitzroy, to resign. Most of the media, mindful of their need for public support, took up the common cudgel and brayed, "Resign Lord Fitzroy!" Not one of those chest-beaters pondered over what perhaps was the imponderable: how does one resign from a lifetime appointment?

It was obvious to everyone that the country had a real stink on its hands but perhaps not without a twist. Aware it was heading the pack by breaking the story, the Guardian rushed out a one-page 'late extra edition' that left the pack in disarray. In 250-point type the heading screamed, Why?

The publisher-editor Jim Gee -- widely known as 'Scurrilous Jim' -- wrote:

Why should the President, the Marquess of Fitzroy, resign? He's done nothing wrong apart from marrying the embarrassing woman. Lord Fitzroy, a self-made industrialist, has amassed a near exemplary political career and has made this former British Colony the influential powerhouse in international affairs that it is today. Adult males of this nation drool over The Lady Magnolia when lucky enough to glimpse her, until now always fully clothed I hasten to add. Women of this nation perhaps regard her as a role model in femininity, and grace -- and dare I say -- smoldering sexuality. So don't even castigate her. Just acknowledge she was unlucky to be caught out and forgive her if she humbly says she's sorry.

The main Opposition party called for an immediate Commission of Inquiry while Speaker of the House in consultation with the Prime Minister Sir Max Wallace, put Parliament into recess. The Armed Services, in consultation with the Police, acted under National Emergency Legislation to prepare to impose a 9:00 pm to dawn curfew and ban any further publication or formal public discussion relating in any way to the scandal. The commanders waited, poised at the ready, for their Commander-in-Chief and paramount leader of the island nation, who was on official business in England, to order them into action.

* * *

The Marquess Fitzroy, in southern England attending a reunion at his old school, was in the communal showers engaged in a knotted towel fight when his red-faced private secretary rushed in, almost oblivious to the red-welted backsides and swinging penises. Kitty Loveridge delivered news of his crisis back home. Within ninety minutes Lord Fitzroy, Kitty and entourage were aboard Oceanpacifica-1 winging their way home at 600-plus mph.

"This is such a damn shame Gerry (Gerald)," Kitty sympathized and the President groaned and said his mother had warned him not to have anything to do with the over-sexed bitch.

"Well really she had little choice, having promised you not to commit adultery with any of your pals while we were away."

"I blame you for that Kitty," Gerry told the 36-year-old brunette, or more correctly currently brunette. "You were there when I extracted that promise from her. You should have told me to rephrase my statement and have her promise not to commit adultery with anyone."

"Sorry sir."

"Well, it's done now. We have the more important issue to deal with of how to cover our backsides. Remember, if my funding is cut by an outraged Government your career is as good as over in the Public Service."

Kitty replied frostily, "I'm more aware of that than you are Lord Fitzroy."

"Oh come on Kitty, you won't think straight if you get uptight. Please call in my other advisers and let's work on strategy."

The face of the 59-year-old President became even more crinkled when he sighed and against the backdrop of gold and blue aircraft décor watched the curvaceous mid-rear of his trusted lieutenant sway from side to side as Kitty went through the doorway of his private cabin. He'd gotten his hands around those cheeks a couple of times only to have her turn him into a shriveling wimp, Kitty frightening him off by snapping, "I'm gay Lord Fitzroy." He knew of course that was a lie but a woman snapping that curse right in one's face rather deflates one.

The entourage of both sexes privately acknowledged when Kitty approached them they were looking at the best pair of breasts in the entire Government Service. Her eyes focused on Dr Timothy Drum who unconsciously switched to look at the ceiling to avoid torturing himself by eyeing her masterpieces.

With typical efficiency Kitty said, "The boss is in deep shit and it's up to us to collectively extricate him. Timothy, as chief spin-doctor, we appoint you to lead the fight back in advising our illustrious leader. Cathy, you sit next to Lord Fitzroy and hold his hand under the table. Richard you keep muttering that this is our first real opportunity to shaft our political foes by ensuring the people abandon those detractors in significant numbers to support their beleaguered President."

The other principal manager, media liaison officer Megan Ryan, asked what Kitty what were her orders.

Not one keen for a female to hold such an influential post where walking a tightrope was 50% of the skill required for medial liaison, Kitty said charmingly, "Organize coffee and follow us in."

During that leg before stopping to refuel and re-provision, the strategies and management plan was worked out to the satisfaction of Gerry. Itinerary and resources manager Cathy Jones stayed behind to apply vinegar to the towel knot welts on the President's ass, as he wanted them gone before he next exposed himself to his flesh-licking wife. Most of the others went to sleep while Kitty and principal speechwriter Duncan McClure worked on the President's speech to be delivered at the airport and then his statement to the House (Parliament). Kitty then went back in, ordered Cathy to dress and they returned to their respective seats, now reconfigured into beds.

Yawning and checking her breasts for lumps, as it was Sunday evening her usual check night at home, Kitty smiled and thought how well everything was going. This 'massive' upset would be off the boil within a week but thanks to naughty Magnolia it would weaken the Government to mould the Opposition leftists into a more formidable body at the parliamentary General Election provided they didn't implode to destroy their chance of presenting a united front. Oh Magnolia, she sighed, your flaky husband has not yet worked out how your misdemeanor can be worked fully to his advantage. Sweetie, he may also decide you have to go.

Two black and orange jet fighters scrambled to fly 100 miles out and escort Oceanpacifica-1 to the Fitzroy Air Force Base, named after the celebrated American-trained aviator young Lieutenant Mark Stanton who in 1920 flew country's only aircraft to sink the cruiser HMS London amid its defense flotilla during the abortive British invasion against the rebels. That triumph at sea led to the nation's negotiated independence four years later. Although Pacifica Colony was renamed Oceanpacifica and became a republic on Independence Day, it remained a member of the British Commonwealth. Mark Stanton became the Marquess of Fitzroy on the death of his father in England and his son Gerry Stanton at the age of twenty-nine gained the title on the death of his father and the grateful nation appointed Gerry to succeeded his celebrated father as President.

In a private room at the airport, in the presence of only Kitty and two bodyguards, the contrite Lady Fitzroy and the President effected their reconciliation in a quite touching meeting, very touching in fact. Kitty pulled out a tube of thick bright red lipstick which she used to cover over Lady Fitzroy's lip gloss and then positioned her correctly to kiss each of her husband's cheeks, pushing Magnolia's head down a mite so that the lipstick imprint didn't appear too perfect.

"Is there need for this?" moaned the President and was told by his 34-four year old blonde wife of almost two years to shut up and listen to his top aide.

Kitty told the President, "When you address the media I want you to turn your head from side to side, nonchalantly and at an uneven pace, so cameras and observers pick up the lipstick. Photos of those telltale marks on your cheeks captured in newspapers, magazines and on TV will tell far more than even two thousand words saying you two have made up and all is forgiven. Lord Fitzroy, you then ask the nation to forgive wayward Lady Fitzroy who sometimes suffers from sexual confusion."

"Sexual confusion?" Lady Fitzroy grinned as her confidence had returned. "Ohmigod Kitty, that is so preposterous that people are likely to believe it."

"Ah yes," Lord Fitzroy agreed. "That's more of less what I told Kitty when I approved those words remaining in the final draft of my speech."

Kitty said people usually believed what they wanted to hear. She added cynically, "Fraudsters know that better than anyone."

The airport media center was crammed and KUT-808TV was broadcasting live to the nation, much to the dismay of the two other TV networks that arrived without live broadcasting support.

Lord Fitzroy walked to the rostrum appearing unruffled and stroked hair over his balding patch. The applause by the media representatives was later reported as no more than polite and sparse.

"First my brief statement and then I'll take questions. I broke off important official talks in the UK to rush back home to attend to what was being called a crisis of national importance only to be met by my tearful wife who apologized to me profoundly for any embarrassment she may have caused me. She reminded me she had warned me from the outset that she was prone to sexual confusion and with me being away had finally succumbed to that weakness. I recall her warming previously of that suspected disposition and I accepted it as being merely a tiny blip in her beautiful persona. I now heavily underscore that it was a relief to me no male was involved. We have kissed, talked and made up. Crisis over."

Lord Fitzroy turned to his left, held out his arms and said, "My beloved Magnolia. Please come out and join me."

Lady Fitzroy minced out in tiny steps, the ghastly lipstick smeared about her lips, and stood straight and true beside her darling.

The media questions came thick and fast but without real malice and nothing worse than the medical reporter for Women's Health asking if the President would call in a psychologist to work on Lady Fitzroy.

"Male or female?" quipped the President, endearing himself to most of the media. "A couple of hours in bed and my dear will be sexually reconnected so that makes any psychologist redundant."

"What about political and public opposition to you on the back of such behavior Mr President?" enquired Murray Locke of the Guardian."

"We don't have effective political opposition," said the President, and in surprise added, "Who let you in here Murray?"

"Despite your dictatorial administration Mr President, the freedom of the press to walk in here is ensured through accreditation."

Gerry snorted, "I'll have accreditation of all you troublemakers associated with the Guardian called in as soon as I arrived back at my office."

In an unprecedented move, the media booed the President and began filing out.

"Any President who marries a whore deserves this snub," someone shouted.

"Who said that?" screamed the President. "Security, arrest that man, or was it a woman? It will be someone associated with the Guardian. Lady Fitzroy and I will seek $20 million in damages for public humiliation resulting from the Guardian's publication of a photograph compromising my wife. It was a damaging invasion of her privacy."

Into the space being vacated by the media representative walked a tall, handsome man with curly long brown hair down to his shoulders. He was the publisher-editor of the Guardian, Jim Gee.

"Jim Gee of the Guardian, Mr President. First of all, thank you for your outrageous comments and threats that will boost the circulation of the Guardian. Secondly, the Guardian and its people had nothing to do with this spontaneous rejection of you just now. You never have recognized that journalists in this country are intelligent and independent thinkers incapable of being organized by anyone. Probably most of them hate the guts of the Guardian but they won't tolerate anyone in their profession being patently victimized and I for one admire them for that. I appear to be the principal victim and so I thank them for that heroic support. Finally, read the Guardian in the morning Mr President. I predict acidic reflux."

Mouth closed tightly, the President made an obscene gesture with his hand at the back of the retreating Mr Gee. TV cameramen and two newspaper photographers recorded that unacceptable gesture.

Wiping lipstick off the President's cheeks while Lady Fitzroy attended to the mess on her lips, Kitty waved them off the presidential couple. Kitty left by another exit to pass through the media overflow at the nearest bar where she was accosted by none other than Jim Gee. He smiled and said, "Welcome back home pretty one. Hey guys, this is the fabulous Kitty Loveridge who used to cuddle up to me when we both worked as juniors in the parliamentary press gallery many years ago. Still carries the best looking chest in Parliament and that includes the women."

Kitty aimed a slap at the grinning face only to have her flying hand caught and be kissed on the lips expertly and it ended before she thought about ripping off his lips with her teeth. She hissed 'You swine' and that incident was caught on press cameras and Jim loudly recounted to those who'd missed the President's confrontation with him what had happened. He said the transcript would be up on the Guardian's website within the hour. "Steal it like you steal our other top-breaking stories," he goaded but received nothing but cheers and laughter. Jim, biggest shareholder of the former City Morning News that a syndicate headed by his parents purchased seven years ago and patriotically renamed by him the Freedom Guardian (usually shortened to the Guardian), was the only managing editor who drank in pubs with rank and file journalists. The young millionaire had established himself as a media folk hero.

Kitty was hurrying away but turned and glared when a woman journalist cried out, "God, look at that butt will you?"

"Lesbian scribes are a disgrace to journalism," Kitty snarled, and disappeared in the wake of derisive laughter.

* * *

Specialists from NBII (National Bureau of Incident Investigations also know as National Security or just the Bureau) monitoring this were confused. Their director, after a private briefing from the Prime Minister Sir Max Wallace, had put six agents on 24/7 surveillance of Kitty Loveridge, suspected of being an informer to the Opposition. An unsigned tip on Guardian letterhead marked 'Top Secret' had been delivered by parliamentary messenger to the office of the Prime Minister (PM). The bomb squad had been called in to open the suspicious letter. Although no explosive device or mind-bending substance was found the contents were important enough to be regarded as top secret pending an investigation. The message read:

I have reason to believe Kitty Loveridge is a spy for the Opposition with the aim of bringing down the Government and putting the stability of our nation in peril. A Friend

The letter had been delivered on the eve of the President's visit to England and he was advised by the PM not to ignore it. Then with publication of the compromising picture in the Guardian of Lady Fitzroy, the offices of the newspaper were raided. Tests revealed the printer connected to the computer in the newspaper library had printed the letter warning to the PM that Kitty was a traitor. The three library workers and their manager were interrogated but Bureau investigators were stymied when it was revealed everyone in editorial of both days in question also used that printer, involving around 350 printouts each day by up to 90 users. The illustrations editor had said steadfastly an anonymous tipster had called in he was watching Lady Fitzroy cuddling another woman.

Sir Max who controlled the Bureau ordered the publisher-editor and the illustrations editor be taken away and grilled but backed down when the defiant Jim Gee warned he and his illustrations editor would cooperate and submit to questioning in their respective offices but if taken in for interrogation the country's media would 'bring down the Government'.

Informed about that, the PM yelled, "The asshole" and then ordered no further action on that particular matter be taken against the Guardian or any of its personnel unless compelling evidence was forthcoming. The director of the Bureau agreed with the A-hole label bestowed on Jim Gee, alleging Jim was becoming "a little too uppity' for comfort and deserved to be tortured back into good behavior.

National Security director Ralph Cunningham sent off an encrypted message to that effect and the PM replied: 'Wait but in the meantime maintain close scrutiny'.

With the return of the President's flight, Bureau personnel tailed Kitty and monitored her phone. But the investigators came up empty-handed. At the debriefing it was agreed that Kitty Loveridge appeared to have gone out of her way to effectively organize the airport reconciliation between the President and his Lady Fitzroy and created graphic evidence with lipstick for all the nation reading newspapers or watching TV reports to see. Even the President's statement that Kitty supervised in the preparation was brief and struck to the heart of the controversy, pointing out the President was blameless for his wife's indiscretion and Kitty had personally produced the face-saving excuse for Lady Fitzroy' extraordinary behavior. The explanation was almost guaranteed to elicit forgiveness among people including those with only a touch of open-mindedness.

It was agreed at the security operation debriefing, Kitty was publicly embarrassed by no other than Jim Gee and that, to say the least, was a very odd way for two people to act if they were in cahoots.

"Or to put us off the scent?" the director said dryly and added, "Where is she now?"

The woman with wiretap connection said, "At her apartment on the phone talking to her mother and moaning about coming back from London in such a rush she'd not had her day of shopping that had been scheduled. Oh dear, she's just slandered the President's wife."

Everyone laughed and those no longer on duty went off, most heading for a nearby bar.

The capital's other daily newspaper the Echo that afternoon published a full report of the President's media conference and the large front page pictured showed him with a lipstick kiss on his closest cheek looking fondly at Lady Fitzroy who was smiling happily through smeared lips. The heading was, 'All is Forgiven' A smaller photo showed the President giving the fingers to the back of the retreating slim Jim Gee. The headline of the accurate report perhaps gleefully stated, 'President and Lady Fitzroy Threaten to sue Guardian for $20 million'.