Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
(****, Clinton/ Lewinsky, Intense, !politics!)
The real story behind the Clinton-Lewinsky sex scandal. (Approximately 747 words. Originally published 1998-02.)
"Attention everyone. Please quiet down. Thank you. The President will make a short statement. He will not -- I repeat -- _will not_ answer _any_ questions after his statement."
The man stepped down from the podium and President Clinton took his place. The throng of world-famous reporters began to jostle for the best angle. Clinton smiled and waved at a few and began.
"Thank you, Mark," he nodded to the man who'd just departed. He turned to the journalists. "Good morning, everyone. I have a prepared statement. As Mark mentioned, I will not answer any questions when I am finished. I have too much work preparing for the State of the Union address tonight."
There were boos and cries of protest from the crowd, but the President waved them down. "Later in the week I will hold an official press conference and answer all your questions, but today I just wanted to address a serious issue. It has been brought to my attention that many people seem to think I'm playing semantics with my many denials of having an affair with Monica Lewinsky.
"I have said that we did not have an 'improper relationship' and people thought I was dodging the question. I said that I had no 'sexual' relationship, and people immediately began to define what _I_ think of as a 'sexual' relationship. Did I consider oral sex a sexual act? Did only intercourse qualify as having an affair?
"I am sick and tired of the Office of the President being reduced to such tawdry rumors and speculations. I will set the record straight today. Monica Lewinsky and I _did_ have a relationship. Several in fact. We had the relationship of a boss to employee. We had the relationship of the President of the United States to a White House intern. We had the relationship of admirer to a friend. Monica's a good person and I admire and respect her, but I will say again: we did not have _any_ kind of sexual relationship."
There was a long pause. Questions and doubts covered the faces of the journalists and Clinton sighed in despair. How was he going to explain this?
His mind flashed back. It was late one evening. The White House was nearly deserted. The door to the Oval Office was locked. Across the large desk was Monica, wearing nothing but skin. Her big bare bottom was pointed at the President. He grinned as he removed his belt. Monica was staring over her shoulder at him in horrid fascination as he approached. He loved the fear in her eyes. Her buttocks trembled and quivered.
"This is for Gingrich," growled Bill as he struck the woman's rear as hard as he could. A bright crimson blotch blossomed on her ass and she gasped in pain. "This is for Dole." Another blossom.
Clinton smiled softly to himself. That beating had been a classic. It had lasted for nearly an hour. That Monica could sure take the pain. He missed her greatly. There weren't many women like her. He loved the way her large bottom glistened with dew as it slowly turned scarlet. He loved the way she wept, huge salty tears that gave him so much pleasure. He loved the way her body quivered in anticipation of his whipping.
He had ached to touch her. Oh, how he'd ached.
But he wasn't a stupid man. People would notice. It was entirely inappropriate. Somehow he'd restrained himself. Monica hadn't enjoyed his restraint. After every beating she begged for him to take her, but he could not. After the Gennifer deal, Hillary had been adamant -- it had to stop.
So Monica had gone home with a sore bottom and nothing else, and Bill had rushed to the bed of his wife, who was always surprised by his sudden enthusiasm.
"This is for Hillary," snapped Bill brusquely. Several blossoms. Monica groaned and wiggled frantically. "Ah," sighed Bill with satisfaction. He'd tried to spank Hillary once -- God, the strapping she'd given him had left him black and blue for weeks! He'd never even mentioned fairness after that, but obediently took whatever she dished out. She had him over a barrel in more ways than one.
Bill blinked at the journalists. They were all waiting expectantly. They knew he wasn't telling the whole truth. They knew something was fishy. They could smell it. Of course they were right. One hundred percent right. But how in the world could he explain?