The Ethical Slutmaker Ch. 06

Chapter 6: Sexual Politics

Alexis looked at the furious woman sitting on the couch, and lit a stick of incense. "What is this shit?" Rhonda Varney demanded. "You send me a video of my husband dressed in drag, telling some Russian whore that he wants to divorce me... and you tell me to relax? I have a town hall meeting in an hour; I don't have time to relax!"

Alexis looked her up and down. Expensive business suit, probably tailor-made. Ash-blonde hair in a Rachel cut. Prada boots. Moschino bag. Gold watch. Diamond-studded wedding and engagement rings. "Getting angry at me isn't going to help you or your husband. You were asked to not to run for mayor. You refused. This is your chance to be business-like about this, to make a counter-offer; if it's accepted, the video will not be released. You must be used to negotiating."

"Negotiating, yes. Blackmail and extortion, no!"

"Consider it useful practice if you ever become mayor - not that I understand why you're so eager to take a pay cut like that. I have some idea what you're pulling down as a realtor."

"It's an important job, and it deserves to be done by somebody capable, somebody who knows the business community and how to handle money."

"Is that all?"

"It will be useful experience in case I decide to go into state or federal politics."

"You're planning that far ahead?"

"Peter's twenty-four years older than me. He has to retire or die someday, and when he does, I should be able to step into his job in a second." She blinked, wondering why she'd blurted out the truth without even hesitating. "I mean -"

"You'd be a logical choice as successor, if you ingratiate yourself with the party. I understand that. And I'm sure you'll be able to send some city business to friends of yours who will help finance your campaign later, right?"

"Right. I... look, that's just the way politics works."

"Oh, I understand that," Alexis crooned. "But it's not going to work for you if people find out that the senator is a cross-dressing submissive with a Russian mistress, is it?" There didn't seem to be any point in correcting Rhonda's assumption about DeMonique's nationality.

"He hasn't seen her in years!"

"Are you sure? And even if that's true, the way you've been treating him isn't any better."

"I'm not the one who makes him dress up and wear lipstick!"

"Of course not. You wouldn't want anyone thinking that you were getting eaten out by a woman, would you?"

"No, I... no."

"You wouldn't want anyone thinking you were a lesbian. Especially not your conservative friends. They have to think you're completely straight - or completely heterosexual, at least."

"Yes!"

"Funny that you don't let your husband fuck you, then."

"I..."

"Heterosexual women are supposed to like cock. They're supposed to be all about the cock, in fact. Are you sure you're straight?"

"Yes!"

"And yet you don't fuck, you just get your pussy eaten - that sounds like dyke behaviour to me."

"I'm not a damn dyke, you -!" She didn't add, "black bitch!", but Alexis could tell she was thinking it.

"But you don't fuck," Alexis said smoothly. "You won't even touch your husband's cock, or his come - he says you make him lick it up. That doesn't sound straight to me. That sounds like fag hag stuff. Do you prefer gay men?"

"No! I hate them! And dykes! I like straight men!"

"But not your husband. Why did you get married?"

"He has money, and I'm going to get his money and his job when he dies!"

Alexis raised an eyebrow as Rhonda, red-faced, placed a hand over her own mouth. After a long pause, she asked, "You a reporter?"

"No."

"Lawyer?"

"No."

"You cross-examine like one. You'd be damn good as either."

"I presume that was meant to be a compliment. No, it's just that people find it difficult not to tell me the truth. Maybe I have an honest face. Or maybe it's because I'm the only person who can decide whether you should be allowed to run for mayor or just be publicly humiliated as a ball-busting bitch with a sissy for a husband. Do you know why Peter married you?"

"I was pregnant, and I wouldn't get an abortion. I said I'd tell everybody if he made me -" She bit her lip.

"You really were pregnant?"

"I lost it," she said, dully. "Miscarriage. But we'd already announced the engagement, and his family wouldn't let him back out. Married men are more electable."

"Was it his?"

"I think so. Probably. I'd broken up with my boyfriend weeks before I slept with Peter."

Interesting, thought Alexis. "Tell me about your boyfriend. Did you like fucking him?"

"Yes."

"Did you suck his cock?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you swallow his come?"

"No. It was just foreplay."

"But you didn't like fucking Peter?"

"Peter never made me come by fucking me."

"Did you come when he ate your pussy?"

"Yes. I didn't let him stop until I did."

Fair enough, Alexis admitted to herself. "Was there something wrong with Peter's fucking, or his cock? Too short? Too skinny? Premature ejaculation? Impotence?"

"Too soft," Rhonda said. "He went through the motions, but we just didn't turn each other on, especially after we got married. Sometimes he came, sometimes he didn't, but I never did... why do you need to know this? Hell, why does it matter to you whether I become mayor or not? What do you want? Money? We have money! How much do you want?"

"I don't want your money. I'm more interested in what you and your friends want. Do you want to shut down the gay bars?"

"Yes. So?"

"The adult bookshops and peep shows?"

"Yes."

"The strip clubs?"

"Yes."

"I won't bother asking whether you've ever been to a gay bar, but have you ever watched any porn?"

"No..."

Alexis smiled, and grabbed a remote from the desk. The TV in the corner started showing clips from a "couples" porn movie she'd chosen because it featured a slow buildup to fairly conventional sex - fellatio, cunnilingus, missionary and cowgirl positions - between a handsome white man and a woman who bore more than a passing resemblance to a slightly younger Rhonda Varney. "Maybe you should, before you try shutting those places down. I grant you, ninety percent of porn is crap, but as a wise man once said, ninety percent of everything is crap. How about strip clubs? I don't mean the ones where women strip, but the ones for women, with hunky men."

"No..."

"I think you should," Alexis purred. "Oh, I know it'd be embarrassing if anyone saw you going into a place like that while you're campaigning, especially if you got all turned on, hard nipples and wet cunt, barely able to resist playing with yourself while those hard male bodies were being waved just in front of your face..."

Involuntarily, Rhonda moaned softly.

"But I think you'd find it educational as well as extremely enjoyable. So I arranged for a couple of strippers from one of them to come here and give you a private show." She pressed a button on the intercom, and a moment later, the door opened to admit a tall slender blond man dressed in cowboy boots, leather chaps, skin-tight jeans cut off just below the crotch, leather vest and a black Stetson. He moseyed towards the couch, touched the brim of his hat and drawled, "Howdy, ma'am," before discarding the vest. He rotated slowly in front of her as he peeled off the Velcro-sided shorts to reveal a waxed and well-toned ass, bare but for a thong, then turned around again and began removing his chaps.

"Is this supposed to impress me?" said Rhonda, faking a yawn. "A man with a nice butt?"

"Oh, not just one..." Alexis replied, pressing the button again. The next man to come strutting in was taller, more heavily muscled, and wearing a high-visibility yellow firefighter's outfit that made his brown skin seem even darker. He removed the coat as soon as the door closed behind him, and the trousers hit the floor a moment after the cowboy's chaps. The two men, clad only in their boots, hats, and bulging thongs, gyrated a few feet away from Rhonda, who barely managed to keep her hands on the couch, away from the sculpted bodies and her own crotch.

"... and not just their butts. The advantage of bringing them here, for a private show, is that they don't need to keep their g-strings on," Alexis crooned. Rhonda gasped as the two strippers unfastened their posing pouches, revealing two of the largest erections Rhonda had ever seen. The cowboy's cock was only slightly longer than her ex-boyfriend's, but the fireman's hose was colossal. The dancers reached out and grabbed her forearms, gently but firmly, and slowly pulled her hands towards their groins. Rhonda whimpered, but didn't protest or resist, and soon she was fondling both cocks. The cowboy took a half-step closer to her, and without thinking, she guided his dick towards her mouth - and then stopped.

"I shouldn't," Rhonda said. "I can't."

"Why not?" asked Alexis, genuinely curious and more than a little impressed with the woman's stubbornness. Her resistance to the mind control was considerable.

"Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"I'm a sex therapist," said Alexis, indignantly. "Think. If people thought for a moment that what happened here wasn't completely safe and secret, if they thought that I was going to tell anyone about their fantasies and kinks, how long do you think I'd stay in business?"

"Then why are you doing this?"

"To show you that there's more to life than politics and money. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

Rhonda nodded, but still hesitated. "But I'm married..." she said, though without much conviction.

"Your husband was unfaithful to you," Alexis purred. "He told his mistress he wants a divorce. This would only be justice - or revenge, if you prefer." In her experience, conservatives were much more excited by revenge.

"Oh," said Rhonda, and having formed her mouth into the perfect shape for fellatio, she pulled the head of the cowboy's cock between her lips and licked it, before swallowing as much of it as she could fit in her mouth.

The fireman prised his dick out of her grasp, knelt before her and began kissing his way up her thigh from the knee towards her cunt. Rhonda moaned when he hiked up her skirt to her waist and nuzzled the damp crotch of her knickers. "Aren't you a little overdressed for this party?" he asked, teasingly. The two men helped her out of her business suit and underwear, and the fireman removed his helmet and began licking her clit as the cowboy played with her nipples. Rhonda locked her legs around the fireman's back as she felt her first orgasm of the day nearing, and held him there as she came, and then came again a few minutes later. Her mind reeling, she looked down at the head between her thighs, wondering what it would feel like to have that huge cock inside her. She'd never had sex with a black man or a stripper before, or even fantasized about it, and the thought was almost as frightening as it was thrilling.

"Is something wrong?" asked Alexis.

Rhonda tried to answer, and realized that she was still sucking the cowboy's cock. She reluctantly let it slip out of her mouth, and said, "I haven't had sex in more than a year. I stopped taking the pill."

"Ah. Of course." She opened the desk drawer. "Franklin! Catch!"

The fireman turned around, snatched the extra-large condom out of the air, and removed the wrapper. Rhonda stared as rolled the sheath down over his massive erection, and involuntarily gulped. If I don't look at him, she told herself, it doesn't matter that he's black; she nodded, then positioned herself on the sofa on her hands and knees. "That's how you like it?" asked Franklin.

"That's how I want it. But be gentle."

"Yes ma'am." He grinned, and knelt behind her, and slowly inserted his cock into her, completely filling her until the tip nudged her cervix and he pulled back slightly. Rhonda came again as the dick rubbed against her g-spot and Franklin fucked her with the precision and timing of a champion gymnast, delaying her fourth orgasm until she was almost ready to scream - and then the climax rolled over her like a tsunami, briefly causing her to forget the existence of anything in the world except the big cock in her cunt. When she had recovered sufficiently to see clearly, she realized that Alexis was standing over her, obviously enjoying the view.

"Nice ass," she said, "but it would look even better with a dick in it."

Rhonda's eyes widened, and she whimpered, "No... please..."

"You've never tried anal?"

"No..."

"You don't know what you're missing. It's the best fucking feeling in the world, so tight and hot that it's easily ten times as intense as a big cock in your cunt. Better than money, or power, or revenge. Would you like me to show you?"

"I..."

Alexis grinned, and turned to the cowboy. "Tex, sit your cute buns down on that chair and get ready for the ride of your life."

"Yes ma'am!"

Alexis slipped out of her red silk dress, squeezed some lube onto her fingertips, and then slowly inserted one, then two, fingers into her asshole as she walked over towards Tex. She bent over to kiss his cock, then deep-throated it for just long enough to make him moan, then extracted her fingers and turned around and straddled him, impaling herself on his erection until he was balls-deep in her ass. She reached down and rubbed her clit, and Tex grabbed her beautiful breasts, pushing them up towards her face so that she could lick her nipples. Rhonda, who had never looked a woman's cunt before, found herself fascinated by the spectacle of Alexis grinding up and down on the cock in her butthole, the pink interior of her twat glistening just above it, the rhythmic bouncing of her big brown boobs and her luminous ecstatic expression as the pleasure became ever more intense until she came with a full-throated scream. Her asshole tightened, then relaxed, and a few frantic heartbeats later, Tex ejaculated into her butt, the sensation sending her over the edge again. Rhonda was briefly aware of Franklin coming at almost exactly the same time, before her own climax blotted everything else out of her consciousness. The sounds and smells of sex and sodomy almost obscured the strange music playing on the stereo and the perfume of the incense.

Alexis, still moaning softly with pleasure, climbed unsteadily off of Tex's lap, grabbed two objects from the desk, and crawled over to the sofa where Rhonda was recovering her breath. "See what I mean?" the therapist purred. "How would you like to come like that?"

"I... I..."

"It's okay," Alexis crooned. "I'm not going to suggest that you take a monster cock like Franklin's up your butt for your first time. Or even Tex's - sorry, Tex." The cowboy gave her an 'aw, shucks' grin. "It'll feel much better if you prepare yourself properly first. This is the smallest butt plug I have, but it's big enough to help you relax and to remind you of what just happened here, just how hot anal sex is and how good it's going to feel when you take it up the ass. You can leave it in until you come back here after your town hall meeting, if you like."

Rhonda nodded weakly. Her eyes widened and she gasped quietly as Alexis slid the well-lubed tapering plug, no larger than a finger, into her twitching asshole, but she didn't protest.

"Now, you'd better get dressed, or you'll be late for your meeting. Better call your chauffeur and ask him to pick you up; you don't look like you'll be in any shape to drive for a few minutes. We'll talk again." She and Franklin helped Rhonda gather and don her discarded clothing, and guided her towards the front door.

"Do you think that persuaded her?" asked the stripper.

"I don't know. That's why I have plan B. You and your boyfriend had better hit the showers."

"Is Rita here?"

"No; she's part of Plan B. You can come and see her later if you're feeling left out, but you're not sticking that skyscraper of yours up MY ass again! And don't give me those puppy eyes, or I won't rim you while you fuck her. Okay?"

***

"Fuck!" Lorelei muttered, as Rhonda finished her speech. "That's the same bullshit she's been spouting all week. I thought Alexis -"

"Shh," said Rita, sitting beside her, as she took a small remote out of her jacket pocket. She and Lorelei were seated only two rows behind the journalists, and Lorelei's sexy theatre-trained voice tended to carry. "We have a Plan B." She waited until the MC opened the floor for questions, then raised her hand. When the microphone reached her, she asked, "What will happen to the jobs of the people working downtown if your plans to gentrify the area go ahead?"

"The businesses can relocate when their leases run out or the employees can retrain," said Rhonda. "We're trying to create a family-friendly environment there, and I don't think strip clubs and gay ba - aaaaaaaaah!"

Rita smiled as she pressed the button on the remote, setting the butt plug in Rhonda's ass to vibrate at its lowest speed. The audience looked at Rhonda with obvious concern and curiosity, and the candidates on stage and the journalists in the front row wondered about the faint buzzing noise and the lines of interference on the TV monitors. The MC murmured to her, "Did you leave your phone on vibrate?"

Rhonda shook her head, and took a deep breath. "I don't think strip clubs and gay bars promo-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh." She gulped, suddenly realizing that she was in danger of having an ear-piercing anal orgasm in front of a town hall meeting heavily stacked with her narrow-minded followers. "Promote the image we want for this city."

Rita smiled as she heard the woman sitting in front of her murmur, "I think she's having a fit." Yeah, she thought; a very tight one. The attendant reached for the microphone, but Rita wasn't finished. "How would you answer your critics who say this whole gentrification scheme is just a way of giving millions in ratepayer money to the construction company who's helped finance your campaign?"

Rhonda, her knees shaking, grabbed the podium to help her stand upright. "I'd say that this isn't just about mon - AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The MC looked panicky. "Get a doctor!"

"I'm an MD," said one of the other candidates, rushing towards her. "Mrs Varney -"

"No! No doctors! I'm alrigh - aaaaaah!" She considered stepping away from the podium, but realized that a photo of her crawling on all fours, rather than walking, would look even worse on the front page than the images they already had. The doctor grabbed one of her arms, and the MC grabbed another, and they escorted her offstage.

***

Lorelei grinned as she read the headlines. "'has withdrawn her candidacy, citing health and family concerns.'" She dropped the paper, stared at the heart-shaped veve painted on the ceiling, and relaxed as Alexis massaged her legs. "What do you think will happen now?"

"My grandmother was the fortune-teller, not me," said Alexis.

"Guess."

"Oh, I would say that they're going to wait a few weeks, and quietly get divorced, and she'll move to another town where this didn't make the news, probably change her name and go back to selling real estate. I think she'll stay out of politics, though: the rumours about her will still be all over the internet, and she'll be the butt of jokes - no pun intended, of course."

"Doesn't she have a copy of the video of her husband's skype call? Can't she blackmail him with that?"

"She doesn't have a copy," said Alexis. "I sent her a link to a website, and a password. The video had copy protection up the wazoo, thanks to one of my pet geeks, and we took the site down once she'd come here. Of course, Peter doesn't know she doesn't have a copy, so if she bluffs, the divorce settlement shouldn't be too hard on her. He may run for re-election, and he might win another term - or he may decide to retire on a senator's pension, go back to DeMonique or find some other mistress, and play golf for the rest of his life. They'll both be okay - and so will your club, and the other businesses downtown."