Where the Bad Guys Always Win

Chelsea Clinton Conquered

Chelsea Clinton had made up her mind. That horrendous womanizing rapist pig Donald Trump had somehow stolen the election from her mother. Since then, Democrats have lost more and more special elections and have been unable to do much in Congress except briefly delay any law Republicans want to pass. The Democratic Party was in turmoil. Without her mother or Barack Obama, they were rudderless. They needed someone to rally around. To generate hype for the upcoming elections to hopefully take back some seats in 2018. Though many had told her to not get too involved, Chelsea couldn't stand back any longer.

She was going to run for a Senate seat in 2018.

While her husband Marc tried to talk her out of it at first, she was having none of it. With incumbent Senate. The incumbent Senator, Claire McCaskill, was on shaking ground and was convinced that she would not be able to win re-election in 2018. Marc and her children, Charlotte and Aidan, stayed behind in New York for the time being. Her mother Hillary was fully supportive of her efforts and would rally around her as much as she could, but Bill was a bit more apprehensive, wanting her to be more patient and get more experience in a more friendly territory.

Even though she had seen her parents work in politics up close hundreds of times, she was overwhelmed at first with how much effort and money an actual political campaign consisted of. She was way busier than she was even helping her mom out in 2016, campaigning in a different spot every day, rarely having time to rest, and doing her best to appeal to Missouri residents that the Democratic Party is listening to their voices, unlike the Republicans. Her public speaking skills had improved greatly in the past 6 years, as she spoke eloquently and respectfully to her constituents, promising them that she would jobs and inexpensive healthcare.

And, to her credit, it seemed to be working. The residents of Missouri were initially mistrustful of Chelsea, given that a lot of towns loathed her mother and she was an outsider to boot, but through a more positive outlook and showcasing that she had an actual platform other than "Trump is evil," she was gaining in the polls. Her main opponent, Republican John Hawley, was still in the lead, but not by much. Nobody could predict how the election would go.

The day before the final debate, Chelsea sat in her penthouse apartment alone, going over her likely talking points that would happen before the debate. She was wearing a simple pair of slacks and a T-shirt, as she didn't plan on going out for the rest of the night. Suddenly, her doorbell rang.

"Who is it?"

"I'm with the debate television staff. I need to go over the final adjustments for the debate."

She thought it was strange that she had not been notified ahead of time that he was coming up and peered through the peephole. There was a man in a business casual suit, minus a jacket, with several folders and a clipboard, plus a big suitcase. As he waited, he began flipping through the clipboard and tapped his toes. Deciding he wasn't any danger, Chelsea decided to forgo calling security and opened the door instead.

"Ah, hello there, Mrs. Clinton. Nice to meet you."

As soon as Chelsea got a good look at him she stammered. There was nothing especially noteworthy about him. He was about 6'5", white, short black hair, no facial hair, and seemed to have a healthy build. Overall, he was pretty plain looking, but as soon as she made eye contact she became a little flushed.

"Oh! Uh, nice to meet you, too. Come on in."

The two of them walked over to the couch and sat down. As he placed his folders on the coffee table and set his suitcase to the side, Chelsea began to wonder what was going on. Just looking at him was making her body warmer and warmer, her cheeks turning bright red. The two of them began to discuss how the debate format would go and where the cameras would be, but after an half hour or so, Chelsea had begun to zone out and stopped paying attention. She just couldn't stop staring at the man before her.

"Hey, I'm getting a little thirsty. Why don't you make me some hot tea?"

Chelsea snapped out of her reverie at the request. Normally, she would be offended at the frank request of her guest. After all, she was a politician aiming to become Senator, not a maid. But she didn't speak up. Instead, she nodded, got up, and headed to the kitchen. It was then that she noticed her pussy starting to go damp.

"Oh, and put some honey and sugar in it. Make it nice and sweet, just like you."

When she heard that, her face got as red as a tomato.

"Uh... OK. Yes, sir."

As she went to make the tea, Chelsea's mind was spinning. What was going on? We're supposed to be professionals here and I'm making tea for him! This isn't right! I need to call security! This guy is really dangerous. He's done something to me! Her mind began conjuring thoughts of him kidnapping her and holding her for ransom or lulling her into a false sense of security before killing her right here. Strangely enough, as the microwave was whirring, her pussy got wetter and wetter. As she finished making the tea and brought the cup over, she began to get more and more nervous. And the more nervous she got, the wetter she became.

The aspiring Senator brought the cup over and sat down on the couch, strangely not noticing him setting up some cameras around the room. As he finished up and sat down to drink his tea, Chelsea couldn't help but stare at him with an eager expression on her face. He took a couple sips and lightly smirked at the enraptured young beauty before him.

"You make a delicious cup of tea, honeypot."

Her inner self exploded in near euphoria over both the compliment and the pet name. But why? She should be insulted by such boorish behavior, especially from a man like this. And yet¦

"So, tell me. Why'd you decide to run anyway? And in such a hotbed state?"

Chelsea began to regain her focus a bit.

"Oh, uh. Because the Democratic Party needed a shot in the arm after the past couple years. After that sexist pig stole the election from my mother, we needed a symbol for our resistance. I wanna be that symbol like my mom was during her time as a Senator."

"But why here?"

"Because it was the best place to help curb his evil agenda. Kirsten's doing good work in New York, so I don't wanna unseat her. And I thought this was my best chance to take back one of the states Republicans stole from us."

He continued to sip his tea, "But don't you think a pretty little girl like you should be at home serving her husband?"

"Excuse me! I'm a woman, not a girl! And my place isn't to be serving my husband like a slave!"

"Oh? Every woman I've run across has always dreamed of finding the perfect man to be her master. The kind who will make her into a proper housewife who cooks and cleans while he's off at work. And when he gets home, he comes to a warm dinner, then relaxes while the wife gives him some stress relief by getting on her knees and giving a nice, sloppy blowjob. You're telling me you never had that dream?"

As the mental image of her being a housewife, clad in nothing but an apron and slippers, serving her husband and making him happy however she can popped into her head, Chelsea just sat there, stammering as her body got hotter and hotter. Her pussy was gushing at this point. She hoped he didn't notice, but he could see it easily.

"Of-of course not!"

"Your body tells a different story. You should have just stayed home and let a man run things down here."

That got Chelsea fuming, "Now see here! Women aren't objects for men to order around! We're just as capable as men at almost everything! In fact, we're better in most things! If my mom had been elected President, this nation would be thriving!"

"Really? Women better than men?" he laughed.

"I'll show you just how much better!" Chelsea exclaimed. And then, surprising herself, she lunged toward him and kissed him, deeply.

He made no effort to resist as she clawed his body, ripping off his shirt and exposing his bare chest. Chelsea was surprised by how muscular he was underneath his suit. She broke off her hungry kiss and began to kiss and lick his chest as she took off her own shirt, pants, and panties, flinging the clothes down to the ground. Before she ripped his pants open, however, she grabbed him and flipped the two of them over, throwing him off the couch. She then grabbed his head and stuffed it into her crotch.

"Eat my pussy, you worthless man!"

He did so with no resistance. She was expecting him to be poor at pussy eating, but she was wrong. He immediately found her G-Spot and was driving her crazy. His tongue was far longer than she thought as it dove straight into her cunt. It took less than a minute for him to rip a soul-searing orgasm from Chelsea's body, making her shudder in pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his head and forced him to continue, but he had no plans on escaping for the time being. He teased her G-Spot endlessly, giving her another 3 climaxes in rapid succession.

After about 20 minutes, Chelsea was completely lost to her horniness and needed to be filled. She grabbed his head and pulled it from her crotch, then dragged him back onto the couch, demanding he remove his pants. His 10" cock sprang up, shocking the young woman. It was at least twice as long and much thicker than her husband's cock and she was worried it might not fit. But her arousal got the better of her and she quickly got on top, guided his massive prick, and slammed her pussy down.

The result was instantaneous. She immediately felt filled more than she had ever thought possible. It took her a good, solid minute to adjust her body to being impaled by such a thick tool before she began to gyrate up and down on his member. She began to get lost in another orgasm, ignoring everything about the man except his huge member. Had she been paying attention, she might have noticed his confident smirk as he laid back and let her do all the work as she moaned in pleasure again and again. She grabbed her breasts, twiddling her nipples, determined to get as much pleasure as she could from this godly tool while she still had it. Her pussy had stretched wider than ever before and deep down she knew sex with her husband was never going to feel as right ever again.

Chelsea bounced on his cock for almost 45 minutes before he couldn't take any more and exploded deep inside her. Luckily, she had her period a few days beforehand, so there was no chance of pregnancy, but him exploding inside of her coaxed one more orgasm out of the horny woman. Exhausted, she fell on top of him and started kissing him deeply again, her pussy still clenching his cock.

"Well? How was that?" Chelsea asked.

"All you showed me is that all women are secretly sluts. Why don't I actually prove it to you?"

He then lifted Chelsea, with his cock still in her pussy, and carried her over to the bedroom. She expected him to be a little rough, but still gentle and was surprised when he threw her onto the bed. He ordered her to get on her stomach and stick out her ass. She was initially shocked by the order, but he then bitch slapped her across her face and continued to slap her until she did what he asked. As she knelt there in anticipation, her stretched cunt was once again quivering in excitement, eager to be slayed by his giant sword.

She wasn't disappointed as he slammed into her cunt hard and started to jackhammer into her body again and again. Chelsea thought she had bounced quickly before, but it was nothing compared with how fast he was pistoning in and out of her vagina. It felt like he was moving a mile a second as he pounded her pussy over and over and over again. His tight grip on her waist just added to her arousal as she could not escape her predicament. She came twice on his cock and was already building to another orgasm when he suddenly pulled out. Confused, the horny slut began to panic as he pulled open her ass cheeks and began probing her anus.

"No! Please! I've never done that! I-" she began to scream.

He hit her in the head and spanked her in the ass, "I don't give a shit, slut. Your body is mine. Now get that ass up and ready."

Chelsea had begun to cry and whimper, but she obeyed as she raised her ass higher and let him get ready. Using her pussy juice as lube, he guided his massive dick into her ass and slammed in just as brutally as he did to her cunt. Chelsea shrieked as the brutal invasion caused her more pain than she ever imagined. She wanted to get away, suddenly fearing for her life, and tried to claw away from her rapist, but he was having none of it. He grabbed her by the hair, pulled her head back, and slammed it down on the bed, shoving her face into the bed. As he pounded away at her ass, he eventually let go of her head and once again grabbed her waist, pulling her higher up.

As the her ass started to grow numb from the pounding, Chelsea realized her pain was starting to ebb away and be replaced by pleasure. Whether it was his commanding presence, him forcing himself into her ass, or the way he wouldn’t let her escape, it all made her feel smaller and smaller. Oddly enough, it made her more and more wet, so much so that she came yet again from her brutal ass fucking. Eventually he reached his limit and emptied his balls deep in her ass and pulled out. She just laid there, feeling his semen ooze out of her ass, too exhausted to move. He climbed over her and pulled her close.

"So, who's better?" he asked.

She stifled back a tear, "Men. Men are better." He leaned in to a kiss, which she returned. He flipped her body over again and started playing with her boobs as she started to get horny again, knowing she had a long night ahead of her!

Chelsea awoke the next day when her phone started ringing. She shot up and looked around for the strange man, but he was nowhere to be seen. She looked down to find that she had been seated in her lounge chair wearing the same shirt and pants she had worn before. Was it all just a dream? But she was rather sore in both her pussy and ass. She looked into the bedroom to find nobody there and the bed completely made up. Back in the living room, she noticed the cup of tea was missing, too. Eventually, the ringtone coming from the phone shook her out of her daze and she answered.

"Yes?"

"Finally! Chelsea, where are you!? We need to prepare for the debate!" her campaign manager screamed.

Chelsea looked over at the clock. It was past noon. The debate was at 7pm. She frantically explained that she had been up late last night practicing and missed her alarm. She quickly took a shower and got dressed and headed down to the debate hall. As her staff began their final preparations, she couldn't get her "dream" out of her mind. She looked everywhere for that man, but nobody on set knew who she was talking about. Worse, she never got his name, so she could only go by a description. Everything that happened last night was at the forefront of her mind, not all of it bad. She started to get wet thinking of her little tryst, but shook the feelings away. Luckily, she decided to wear a dress to the debate so there was less chance of a stain happening. And as long as her husband didn't find out, she would be in the clear eventually.

Unfortunately, the images never left her mind completely by the time of the debate. As she began answering the moderator's questions, Chelsea seemed to zone out at various times, asking for questions to be repeated and appearing flustered at times by her opponent's challenges to her. By the time the debate ended, it was clear Chelsea had been outclassed. She was far too distracted to concentrate on politics and she suffered for it. As a result, her poll numbers dropped heavily and she was now a darkhorse to win.

The aspiring Senator tried to rehab her image, but it was all for naught, as a few days before the election a sextape was leaked on the Internet of Chelsea having sex with a man who was not her husband. She couldn't believe it. He had filmed it all without her even noticing! The press had a field day with the leaked tape and it ran on news networks all throughout the day, though usually censored. Chelsea had given a press conference denying the video was real, but most of her answers were either non-committal or cliché, so few people believed her.

She suffered for it on Election Day, as she was trounced by Hawley almost 3-1 in the polls. It seemed the press backlash from her tape also affected Democrats around the country, as support for Republicans surged through. Democrats ended up losing a whopping 15 seats in the Senate, giving them a supermajority and unilateral control over all three branches of the government.

But it wasn't just Chelsea's political career that was over. When her husband saw the sex tape, he was furious, especially when she couldn't sound convincing when he asked if it was a forgery. The two would have a huge fight that would end with Marc asking for a divorce, shocking Chelsea. Her parents tried to comfort her, but they couldn't be with her as much as they could since the Democratic Party still relied on them for support, despite their last name now being toxic.

Six months later, Chelsea was now living by herself in a house out in rural New York. The divorce had gone through and Marc got full custody of the kids. Bill and Hillary stayed in Washington to try and block or at least impede whatever horrible bill Republicans would try to force through. She was truly all alone.

She thought she heard a sound in the kitchen and went to investigate. There, she found him!

"YOU! What the hell are you doing here!? What the hell did you do to me, you bastard!" Chelsea screamed, rushing at him to attack.

He easily caught her fists and held the young woman back, never letting go of his smug grin, "I was hired to do a job and now I'm here to complete it."

"You ruined my life, you piece of shit! I'm going to tear-"

Chelsea's angry rant was interrupted by the man lightly pushing her away and delivering a powerful slap to her face, knocking her to the ground and stunning her.

"Oh, my little honeypot. All I did was show you what you truly are inside. Tell me. If the people in your life cared about you so much, where are they? Why did your husband file for divorce over a one-night stand? Couples have stayed together over worse. Why did your parents abandon you when you needed the the most? Do they really think anyone in Washington gives a damn about them anymore?"

Chelsea lied crumpled on the floor, crying her eyes out. His words hit home hard. The man knelt down and started lightly petting and caressing her hair.

"You see, I came back because I'm the only one who can give you what you truly need. To show you want you can truly become. Unlike your so-called loved ones, I won't be leaving you again. I'll always be here to give you what you need."

Chelsea sniffed back some tears and felt a mixture of comfort and horror. She could tell he was trying to enslave her. Part of her told her body to run as fast as she could and find help. But another part agreed with him. She had been abandoned by her family even though her mother stuck by her father during his sex scandal. She had no one left. She had dreamt about this man constantly since that night, some bad, many good. It had become so bad she couldn't get off without imagining his powerful dick plowing her body. She looked up and made eye contact with him. Suddenly, a huge jolt of power rushed through her body. Her will had crumbled. He won and they both knew it.

He helped her up into a standing position again, but Chelsea kept her head down, both terrified and excited about what he was going to do to her now.

"Now, my little honeypot. Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he said as he stroked the same cheek that he slapped her with a few minutes ago. It was still beet red.

"Y-Yes, sir." Chelsea said, keeping her head down and sniffling back her tears.

"Then it's time to prove it."

She heard him unzip and looked up a bit, seeing him free his monster cock. The one that broke her several times that night months ago. The same one she had been dreaming about since then. He ordered her to remove her top and pants as he threw his shirt off to the side. Chelsea did as she was ordered, leaving her clad in only her underwear.

The disgraced woman sank to her knees, lightly grabbed the throbbing tool, and proceeded to give her rapist her the first of many blowjobs. While she wasn't inexperienced in the art of giving oral sex, his member was far larger than what she was used to, so she could only get about half of it down her throat. She looked up to see him smiling, which made her happy for some reason, and she began to suck harder.

The man placed his hand on the side of her head and gently pushed his cock deeper and deeper into Chelsea's mouth. It took some doing, but after about 10 minutes, she was able to get the whole thing down her mouth, even though it hurt her throat each time. When she finally fully deep throated him, he complimented her, making her wet again.

Soon after, his cock began to throb and he pulled her off his cock and held the vulnerable woman still. Chelsea wondered what was going on when suddenly his cock started spraying cum all over her face and body. She tried to back away, but he had a tight grip on her hair so she couldn't escape. He emptied a ton of semen all over her, coating her face and chest in cum. A bunch even got in her hair. When he was finished, he let go of her hair as she fell back and rested on her knees and began crying again. He really did own her. She knew there was no going back from this.

Later in the evening, the man sat naked on the bed, watching TV. The door suddenly opened and Chelsea walked in, naked but for a pair of thong panties, carrying a small plate with a ham sandwich on it in one hand and a glass of ice water in the other. He wanted beer, but they didn't stock any in the house and he didn't want Chelsea leaving just yet. As she walked in, she placed the food on the nightstand.

"Here is your food, sir."

"Wonderful, honeypot. Now, while I'm enjoying my meal, why don't you continue practicing your oral skills?"

That stung Chelsea hard, but she made no attempts to resist. She climbed into bed. On the television, President Trump had enacted a new law that would essentially repeal yet another one of the former President Obama's acts, calling it a great success. After the sex tape scandal, much of the media had turned on the Democrats, so Republicans, even when they did something horrendous, had been given a more positive light. Even CNN and MSNBC were getting more apologetic about the Trump Administration's dealings.

But none of that mattered to Chelsea anymore. She crawled onto the bed and got between her new Master's legs. Pushing her hair to the side, she took his flaccid cock in her mouth and started sucking, trying to completely conquer her gag reflex. Soon enough, the cock got hard again. She wanted to speed up and try to get him off faster, but he ordered her to go slow and take her time. To really go over his cock and worship it as much as she could.

The man enjoyed his sandwich as he continued watching the news, paying her little attention. He idly wondered what her actual cooking skills were like, but that was for another day. After he finished, he dusted the crumbs off his chest and stroked his new slave's hair as she continued her mission.

"By the way, tomorrow we'll start your obedience training in earnest. By the time I'm finished, you'll be awakened to the sexy little slut you truly are inside," the man stated, "After a few weeks of training, we'll be heading down to Washington. The people who hired me originally need a new worker. Kellyanne's getting a bit long in the tooth, so our esteemed President needs a new mouthpiece to defend and back his new laws. And what better a propaganda piece for the Republican Party than the daughter of President Trump's biggest enemy?"

Inside, Chelsea was horrified. This was all a plot by the Republicans to hold off Democrats and control the Senate, plus get revenge on her mom! They were going to use her to destroy the wonderful legacy her parents created and throw America into turmoil, all to destroy the Democratic Party completely.

Even after hearing this, though, Chelsea continued to suck her Master's cock. She knew their plan would come to fruition and there wasn't anything she could do to stop it. He had completely beaten her. Even if she went to the press, nobody would believe her, especially after all this time and no evidence. All she would accomplish is humiliating herself even more. Her family's legacy was toast thanks to her anyway, so this was likely punishment for her weakness. Her ultimate fate for going up against people she had no business going up against.

"Yes, Master. Whatever you want me to do, sir." Chelsea said, before going back to sucking her conqueror's cock, holding back some fresh tears.

Yes, this truly was her place now.