Pay Back

"So that, dear friends, is why the President and I both hope that you will support him as he tries to pass the all important spending cap legislation now before the House.  Thank you for your time, and good night." 

Jennifer Boyle, the wife of the president, made her way through the clapping throng on her way to the rear exit of the grand ball room in the Century Towers Hotel.   A limo with a phalanx of Secret Service agents were waiting to escort her back to the White House, while she and her body agent, Jimmy Knox and his assistant Bill Dooley all climbed onto the service elevator for the twenty floor ride down to the basement! 

Two agents waited impatiently by the elevator doors waiting for car number seven to arrive, but it never did.  Ten minutes later they found the elevator stuck between floors with agents Knox and Dooley lying unconscious on the elevator floor.  The First Lady was nowhere to be seen. 

 Special Agent Amber Combs surveyed the situation, and with a heavy heart dialed the White House and asked to speak with the President, how could she tell him, his wife had just been kidnapped.

That afternoon the headlines in the bulldog editions of newspapers all across the country screamed with the headlines that the First Lady had been kidnapped from a moving elevator right under the noses of the Secret Service.   The citizenry was stunned, who would do such a dastardly thing? After all, Jennifer Boyle was beloved by just about everyone, and while her husband, Kensington Holton Boyle had his enemies. 

What president didn't?  Never in the history of the republic had anyone tried using a member of the First Family to get back at the Commander and Chief.  Was it middle eastern extremists or possibly and old adversary from the old communist bloc countries getting a little revenge.

In the Oval Office President Boyle read the headlines for the tenth time.  He still could not believe what he was reading. 

Finally he slammed down the paper and shouted, "Jesus fucking Christ!  Ten fucking agents watching her and someone just waltzes in and snatches her.  Heads are gonna roll on this. You can take my word for it.  What's the CIA and the FBI say?" he demanded. "Well, do they have a fucking clue?" 

"Uh, they're working on it, Sir." The chief of staff, Tom Meadows replied softly. "So far they don't know a thing.  They're hoping that the kidnappers will contact us and demand a ransom." 

"Oh, that's just great," Kenny Boyle snapped, "we're counting on them coming to us, just fucking brilliant.  The next time that liberal windbag, Sen.  Addams says we spend too much on the agencies I just might agree with him.  They couldn't find water if they were hip deep in the fucking ocean." 

Then plopping tiredly back down in his chair, he looked sadly at his staff and asked, "Fellas, what the hell are we gonna do?  Where could she be?"

"W-where am I?" Jennifer Boyle stammered. "M-my head feels like it's gonna explode." 

 She had no idea where she was or how long she had been out, but she did know that she had a splitting headache and was definitely not back at the White House.  She felt someone stick a glass of water into her hand and she eagerly drank it down, while her eyes tried focusing on the lone figure sitting behind the big desk in front of her.  

"Feeling better now, Mrs. Boyle?" a voice asked. "I hope your trip wasn't too uncomfortable." 

"Who are  you and what do you want?" she demanded, while trying to place the voice.  She was sure she had heard it someplace before. 

"Gee," he commented, "I'm a little disappointed you don't recognize me.   I thought I was famous, or at least your husband thinks I am." 

Then it hit her, like a ton of bricks falling of a building, now she had it.

 "You're Big Ben Meyer." 

 "Give the lady a gold star," he said evenly.  "Now let's see if she can figure out why she's here.

"If this is about your brother," she replied. "I had nothing to do with that, he broke the law and had to pay the price." 

 "You're right about two things," Big Ben replied. "He broke the law and you didn't have anything to do with it, but about number three you're wrong, you are gonna pay the price." 

 "W-why me?" she asked softly. "Are you just trying to get back at my husband?" 

"That prick has caused me trouble for the last fucking time," he said bitterly. "As dumb as the motherfuckers around him are, they'll never figure out what I have planned until it's over." 

"And what is it you have planned?" Mr. Meyer. 

"Please," he said magnanimously, "Call me Big Ben, all my friends do." 

 "Like I asked, Mr. Meyer," she replied coldly.  "What are your plans?" 

 With his face now turning hard, he nodded to several men standing behind her who grabbed her by the arms and held her firmly in place.  He slowly got up out of his chair and produced a hypodermic syringe and told her. 

 "You know that campaign against drugs you started, you know the one that said "Just Say No."  Well, you're about to just say yes!"

Now real terror filled her heart as Big Ben Meyer slowly covered the remaining five feet that separated them as he menacingly brandished the gleaming needle. 

"W-what's in that syringe?" she demanded. "You can't do this to me, my husband will find me and when he does he'll have you killed." 

"Oh, I'm sure he will find you," he said grimly.  "but as far as having me killed.  Well we'll have to see about that.  Now are you gonna make us do this the hard way or are you gonna be nice and take it like a big girl?" 

 Realizing that it would be foolish to resist, she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.  She felt a swab of alcohol being rubbed over her arm which quickly followed by the sharp point of the needle breaking the skin.   She was about to ask again what was in the syringe, when her arm was flooded by an incredibly warm sensation that quickly flowed through her entire body.  Her head began to roll slowly around on her shoulders as the drug began coursing its way through her veins.

"There now  Mrs. Boyle," Big Ben whispered into her ear. "I'd like you to meet Mr. H, which is short for horse, or as you high and mighty would call heroin." 

"Feels real nice doesn't it?" he continued softly. "Kind of makes you feel like you're just floating away."  "Well, at least that's what I've been told," he said evilly. "I never touch the stuff myself, I always just say no." 

 Her arms, having long since been released by Big Ben's henchmen, now draped over the arms of the chair as her whole body lay limp and slipped into a drug induced stupor.

  Big Ben nodded at his men who half carried the First Lady into an adjoining room, where for the next four days she was fed a constant diet of pure heroin.

On day number five, for the first time she was denied her usual fix.  Then it began, the sweats, the fever, and of course the begging.  She was hooked and she knew it, but there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

  Big Ben came into her room and stood at the foot of her bed and said. "The boys here say you wanted to talk to me, so, talk."

 "Please, Mr. Meyer.  I-I need it so badly,  just give me a little.  That's all I want, just a little." 

 "A little what?" he asked impassively. 

"You know what I want," she begged while starting to cry.

  "Uh, not really," he replied casually. "You'll have to be more specific."

"I need some horse," she moaned. "I'm going crazy, please, just give me one more fix and I'll be fine." 

"I'm sure you would," he said doubtfully. "There's just one problem." 

" What problem?" she fairly shrieked." 

"Well, you see I have a brand new policy," he explained. "Everyone has to earn their fix.  We just can't give it away anymore. 

 Frankie here told me we'd be losing a ton of money if we did that, and since I don't want to lose any money, we just instituted a new policy.  Everybody pays their own way." 

 "I-I don't have any money," she said wailed. "W-what am I going to do?" 

"See there," he said softly. "Already you're getting' with the program.  I'm gonna make this easy for you.  See Mike over there, the one with the scar on his face, all you got to do is suck him off.

"  She began crying again and whined, "Please, Mr. Meyer, d-don't make me do that, I-I can't." 

"Hey, honey," he said smoothly.  No one's making anybody do anything, "if you don't really want the horse, no problem.  Okay boys, let's leave her alone, she doesn't need us around, let's go."

As Big Ben and his men slowly began filing out of her small bedroom, a feeling of desperation shot through her.  She realized her only hope of getting well was by sucking Mike's cock. 

The cold shakes again shook her body as it beseeched her to pour some relief into her veins.  In a half state of delirium she asked for Big Ben to bring Mike back into the room. 

"Hey, Mike," Big Ben yelled. "Come back in here, the little lady wants to meet ya up close and personal." 

It had gotten to the point where she didn't even care that there were five other men in the room watching, all she wanted to do was get Mike's cock into her mouth so that she could suck him off as quickly as possible.

  "Mmmmm Baby, the president is one lucky motherfucker to have a cock sucker like you around," Mike offered.  "Oh yeah, baby, suck that pecker." 

 The other men in the room shouted words of encouragement to their lucky buddy.  It didn't take more than a few minutes of Jennifer's sweet lips on his pecker before Mike's dick began to spasm and emptied it's seed deep into her throat.  Mike groaned loud and long as the wife of the President of the United States gave him one of the best blow jobs he had ever had.

After that day the only way Jennifer could get her fix was to suck off or fuck one of Big Ben's personal friends or associates.   It became a habit for her a cock in her mouth, and a needle in her arm.  She couldn't have one without the other. 

As the weeks passed Jennifer began losing a lot of weight.  She started to look remarkably like the addict whores who sold their services on Washington's mean streets.  Her beautiful hair had become a disheveled mess and her eyes took on a dark sunken appearance. 

Then one day without warning, Big Ben came into her room and made an announcement. 

"New game plan, lady, we're gonna let you go." 

"I don't wanna leave," Jennifer wailed.  "Where am I gonna get my junk if I leave here?" 

"Don't worry baby," he said soothingly. "I have that all figured out. You'll get your fix.  You'll just have to earn it in another way that's all." 

"What do I have to do?" she asked a little too eagerly. 

"Here, put this on," he said while tossing her a teddy, stockings, and high heeled shoes.  "You gotta earn your keep on the streets Baby, your a pro now." 

She looked at him with a glazed over look, and fear in her eyes. She realized he held all the power, so she slowly stripped off her clothing and donned the slut outfit he provided.

"Mmmmm Baby you look nice," he said evilly.  "Now let's go see how the other half lives."

She was almost unrecognizable in her present state.  Ben dropped her off at whore's corner and none of the other girls even gave her a second look.

  Finally about a hour after he had dropped her off she got her first customer.  A young man from suburban Maryland.  She hopped into his car and for the vast sum of only thirty five dollars, the young man got his cock sucked by Jennifer Boyle, the First Lady of the United States.  With cum still dripping down her chin, she stuck the cash into her panties and went back to her corner to flag down more tricks. 

By midnight and having earned about one hundred fifty dollars, she slid back into Big Ben's car for the ride back to his place. 

"How'd we do to night, Baby?" he asked. 

"I made a lot of money, Mr. Meyer," she replied quickly.  "C-can I have my stuff now." 

"When we get back to my place," he replied.  "Now be a good girl and give me some head."  Being so used to sucking cock, she just let her head fall naturally into his lap and eagerly sucked him to a hard fast orgasm.

 "You really love this don't you, Bitch?" he sighed while putting his dick back into his pants. "You've got a real fucking talent for it." 

"Thanks, Ben," she replied while leaning up against him. "I'm glad you think so."

Back at Big Ben's place, she plunged the needle into her arm and let the warmth flow through her.  This was the moment in the day she lived for.  She didn't care about her husband, her country, or herself for that matter. All she cared about was getting her next fix. 

She was right in the middle of her float, when Big Ben said softly, "Baby, I got somebody here who wants to fuck and suck the president's wife, be a good girl and spread your legs." 

 "Sure, Ben," she said dreamily. "Anything you say, lover."  She was half out of it, but she offered no resistance when a short blonde woman slid her mouth onto Jennifer's sticky cunt and slowly began tonguing her open crack. 

"Oh, myyyyy," Jennifer sighed.  "That's very nice! Mmmmmm, suck my little clit for me.  OOhhhhhhhhhhhhh Yessssssssss!"

The few times Big Ben let her have orgasms they were so string they literarily blew her cunt away, and this time was no exception.  One of the side effects of  heroin is that you can have massive earth shaking orgasms when in its thrall. 

"Who's doing this to me?" she moaned.  "You are good at what you do.  Suck my pussy.  Oh yes!  Do it to me good!" 

The woman had a very insistent tongue that knew every trick in the book. In a matter of a minutes, Jennifer convulsed in a series of brutally hard climaxes that left her shaking and drooling in a heap on the bed.

"Now it's my turn," the unknown woman ordered while positioning her wet pussy over Jennifer's open mouth.  "That's a good girl.  You know what to do.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh that's right, suck my cunt you fucking whore."  And she did it like she had been sucking cunt all of her life. 

So hungrily, urgently, like she was born to do it.  Instinctively she went straight to the blonde's clit and sucked and licked it like a nipple.  The blonde forced her vulva down harder, while at the same time maneuvering her clit to maintain maximum contact with Jennifer's eager tongue.  

This went on for some time, so when someone slid between her legs and jammed a cock deep inside of her, Jennifer merely groaned hard into the blonde's hairy cunt and convulsed in another excruciatingly hard climax.  Seconds later the blonde followed suit, grinding and pressing her cunt flesh into Jennifer's panting mouth until she was totally spent and satisfied. 

She rolled off of her and the two women lay side by side with their legs spread wide apart and juice dripping slowly from their pussies, and as sleep began to overtake them, the two women slid together and held each other as they lost consciousness.

It had been almost two months since the kidnapping, and the president had long since given up hope of ever seeing his wife again.  That is until that fateful day he received a phone call on his private line. 

"Is this President Prick?" asked the voice on the other end of the line.

  "This is the president," Kenny replied.   "Who is this, and how did you get this number?" 

"Shut your fucking mouth and listen."  The voice snapped viciously.  "You wanna see your whore wife alive." 

"Y-you've got Jennifer?" he asked excitedly. 

"Yeah, I got her," the voice answered. "She's been fucking everything in sight, kind of like you."

 Ignoring the little shot, Kenny Boyle asked.  "All right, what do you want?"

  "What do I want?" the voice spat. "I want my brother out of that fucking prison within a year.  You fucking got it." 

'Shit' Kenny Boyle thought for a moment.  'It's that fucking psycho, Ben Meyer.  He's the one who took Jen.' 

"I can't do that," the president replied.  "He was convicted and has to serve out his term." 

"You want me to send you a piece of her a day for the next six weeks?" Ben shot back.

"No, no," Kenny replied quickly.  "Maybe there's something I could do." 

 "You're fucking right there's something you can do," he answered.  "You can give him a fucking pardon.  That's what you can do." 

"Uh, okay," Kenny replied.  "What about Jennifer?  How do I know that you really have her and she's all right?" 

"Just look out your window, see that gray sedan, she's in it," he replied. "If you're thinking about reneging on our deal, don't!  I have a lot of nice movies and videos of your wife sucking' and fuckin'  every low life scum bag in town, you got it." 

"I got it," Kenny replied.  He hung up the phone and pressed the intercom button for his chief of staff and said, "Tom, come on in here.  I think I've found Jennifer.

Pay Back Part 2