The Secretary and the President
By Amanda Lu
Part 1
Any references to real life secretaries and Presidents of any country in the world are entirely coincidental.
Thirty year old Katie, the President’s secretary, was at her last day of her work. For the past two years, she had served as the personal secretary to the President, being the key member to organise his daily schedule, to buzz visitors in and out, watching him meet world leaders, kings and queens and people who made history one way or the other. Now, moving on the graduate school, she would miss all those times.
“Katie, won’t you come in here. I’ve something special for you,” the President called.
Wonderful, a gift for all my two years of work, Katie, thought, and did so. “Thank you so much, Mr. President!” she exclaimed, looking at the huge box, wrapped in shiny gold paper and bound with a pink ribbon.
“Go ahead, open it,” he said, smiling with his usual smile.
Katie yanked off the ribbon like a child opening her Christmas present and lifted the lid open. POOF! A wave of dust enveloped her face and she fell on the carpet, unconscious.
Katie, awoke, but couldn’t feel anything at all. Was she dead? Her vision was cloudy–was this the after life? Slowly, the cloudiness dissipated and she saw a familiar face staring right down at her. It was the President. She tried to call out to him but somehow she just couldn’t emit any sound at all. Any she felt extremely cold during this summer–the room wasn’t that air-conditioned. What was going on?
“Relax, Katie, you can’t move or talk at all and it is for you own good and mine. This is your present, my last time with you–really with you,” the President said, his usual minty breath breathing into her nose. Her eyes could only stare at him and could not blink at all.
“Don’t worry about interruptions; it’s the reason why I told you to schedule nothing important at all for this afternoon and this evening. I’ve locked the main door and the door to your office. The security guards will prevent anyone from entering and since this office is sound proof, they won’t hear a thing at all, Katie dear,” he continued. He called me dear?!!! She thought. What on earth was happening?
He lean forward and kissed her squarely on her lips. He had never done that before! All his previous kisses were to congratulations or greetings. Oh gosh, is he going to touch me?
“Katie, you’re the most beautiful girl in the office, “he breathed again on her. “Forget my personal advisers, the waitresses and even my wife. You’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever met,” he remarked, stroking her hair. It was then she realised she was on some kind of long table. Definitely not the President’s office table, it was some kind of steel table, though she wasn’t sure what kind as her sense of touch was missing.
“You remember that you asked me to write a recommendation for your grad school? I took the opportunity to have a short background check on your life history Katie. Apparently, you used to play ‘cops and robbers’ a lot with your male friends in school when young. Then apparently, you joined the Fetish club in your Liberal Arts College, though that’s not officially on your CV as it’s a not nice to have it here. But I’ve checked. You love being tied and gagged Katie. And that’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, parting her working cardigan. Freaking hell, he’s going to tie me up!
“Don’t worry, once I’ve finished, the drug’s effects will be gone and you’ll regain all your movements. But by then, you’ll feel the best the best tie up of your life. And when you can speak, I’ll give you the best gag of your of life,” he stated. If Katie wasn’t paralysed, she would have felt a chill down her spine…
She could only watch helpless as Mr. President, one of the most powerful men on earth, lifted her up and removed her cardigan. Her inner blue strapped top was now fully revealed to him. Again, she was lifted up and her top came up. She felt weird not turning red with embarrassment or unable to fight back but she hoped that the drug would wear off faster for her to fight him.
“My gosh, Katie. I’ve always seen you breasts covered and knew they were big but I didn’t know they were that big, Katie,” he exclaimed, looking at her lacy, black push-up bra. Usually, she wouldn’t wear push-up bras to work, but this was for this evening for clubbing, not to let the President see it! “What size are they?”
No! she thought, don’t you dare un-clip my bra as he turned her around. “Ah, you’re a 36C!! That’s so much bigger than my wife’s!!!You lucky Maryland girl you!!!” He boomed into her ears, while keeping an eye on her delicious, well formed cleavage. “I’m really going to enjoy this,” he said, more to himself than her.
Please let me fight him! give me back my motor skills! She thought as she watched him move to her lower body. He reached under her skirt and she thought, oh my gosh, he’s going to touch me “down there” she thought! Her thoughts flooded to a possible future where she would give evidence at his impeachment and then trial and hopefully see him locked away for life. To think I chose this job instead of a normal career….
Instead, he fingered the waist band of her blue pantyhose and tugged it it down. After a minute of so, he and lowered the hosiery to her feet where her four inch heels were. The President bent down and carefully lifted them out. Gosh, he’s going to strip me naked! This is impossible! Somebody help! Guards! Secret Service! Help!
Naturally, those words were only shouted in her mind. Her pantyhose was fully removed in the next minute and the long hands with always neatly trimmed nails–without dirt, how on earth did he keep his fingernails so clean?–reached for her skirt. It could be called a mini or office skirt what every way you call it and it was at least a few inches above her knee. Now, it came off so deftly. None of Katie’s ex-boyfriend from high school to college every clicked the skirt off so deftly.
“Goodness me Katie, you’re already pretty with your clothes on but you’re damn sexy beneath,” he breathed again, staring at her black bikini panties that he had exposed. This wasn’t the usual underwear she would wear to work; in fact most of her panties were of light colours (thought not white) and not all of them of bikini type–she had mainly Boyshorts or Hipsters. These undies were again for the celebratory clubbing tonight–not that she was going to flash them–and not for her boss and the country’s leader to see.
“Katie, you are really a babe. Perhaps you should defer your studies and spend another year with me,” he said, kissing her nose. The President had kissed on her nose! his kisses were always just greeting or goodbye kisses, never such affectionate ones! What next, on her lips!
He moved away for half a minute but was back; some rummaging sounds could be heard. It was strange how only her sense of hearing and sight was available and somehow enhanced–what kind of drug was this? “Katie, I’m sure you know what this is?” He interrupted her thoughts as he thrust something directly in front of her eyes. They were plastic handcuffs. Yes, she had been bound with them once or twice during her days but she always had mainly ropes or metal handcuffs. These looked like the kind the country’s Special Forces used to restrain terrorists and terrorists suspects. Did he acquire them from the time he visited the troops?
To Be Continued...