This is a work of fiction, people and relationships, as well as job descriptions, origins, etc. may vary. I took the general idea from the news, changed names and events somewhat, altered where I needed to, embellished, and the final result only resembles the truth.
Dedicated to my favorite turtle, who convinced me that this half baked idea actually had some potential.
Presidential Squeeze 1
� 9/99, By Py,
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Veronica first saw him during his campaign, and after she had heard him speak a number of times, she decided that she must help Paul Clayton become President of the United States. She joined his local campaign team as a volunteer, working long hours and making herself invaluable to the group. Eventually she had been offered the chance to meet the candidate, so that he could thank her personally. He was a gentlemen, and spent nearly an hour talking to her over tea, mostly about campaign ideas, then about her.
Time passed, and he began taking her places along the campaign trail as one of the team that worked closely with him. She helped to choose his clothes, prepare speeches, and do various odd jobs. He made her an important part of his team, and she attended every speech, either from behind the stage or in front of it with the crowd.
After Mr. Clayton was elected, he began pulling together his White House staff, as he spent his early weeks learning a great deal about the office he had been elected to. When he heard that his best campaigner Veronica wanted to take a job as an intern in the White House legal staff, he told his secretary to give her a position. He figured that helping her law career along by giving her one of the coveted internships was only right, considering all the good work she had done for him on the campaign trail.
He passed Veronica in the halls a few times, she always seemed to be carrying papers when he saw her. His family was adjusting well to the new surroundings, although he seldom saw his wife Zelda Bedlam Clayton these days. He had promised the public that Zelda would be a co-President, but hadn�t truly meant it, nor would the constitution allow it. Zelda was taking it seriously though, working almost as hard as him in her various committees and activities, having idea after idea of hers shot down by congress. Paul Clayton had gotten to the cynical point of having her put forth any idea first when he really didn�t want it to pass, then he could claim he had done all that he could, and blame the failure on congress.
His daughter Cello, and Rocks the cat were also doing excellently. Although on that first day at the White House Rocks had eaten JuJu, the pet parakeet of the outgoing President. Cello hadn�t enjoyed leaving Utah and all her friends, but had begun to make new ones, even with the Secret Service agents standing around her all the time.
Mr. Clayton had kept some of the previous presidents staff, including some of his closest advisors, particularly Aladdin Greensleeves his chief economic advisor. He figured that if the economy did well he could take the credit, and if it did poorly he could blame Aladdin and the previous administration. Aladdin had promised to work his magic though, and so far the economy was doing well.
The entire country seemed to be doing quite well, and things were running smoothly for the most part. The occasional disasters were seldom large, and never seemed to tax his capacity. Everything was going smoothly, and Mr. Clayton was feeling more relaxed all the time. Then casually passing Miss Stravinsky in the hall one day, he was struck by the notion to invite her to have tea with him.
Veronica was caught off guard, but was happy to meet with The President, it reminded her of previous times having tea with him on the campaign trail, and she began to consider things they might talk about. She figured he�d want to spend some time talking about campaign issues, and she didn�t know a thing about playing the tuba. She decided she�d have to wing it, and hope not to embarrass herself too much.
They had tea on several occasions, talk slowly turning less political and more personal, until one day he made advances. Veronica had been warming to the idea, and was more than happy to be with him. She learned all about how cold his wife had become, and how lonely his job was, and she pushed any negative thoughts out of her mind, sometimes confiding in her best friend Lucinda Chips.
They met in various places in the White House, always areas that tour groups were not allowed into, and places where Zelda and Cello either weren�t allowed or were highly unlikely to go. An old forgotten office was their favorite spot, and when the secret service agents saw them enter a room, they kept quiet about it. Several times they were interrupted by various concerns. Once by Janis Rhino who told him that a group called the Ranch Euclidians were using guns to hold off a surrounding force trying to arrest them. �Blast it, is that all you disturbed me for!� he had told her in annoyance as he slammed down the phone. Janis Rhino took that as a command, and proceeded to have the military blast the Ranch Euclidian compound.
They eventually settled into a new favorite spot, a large carpeted meeting room which wasn�t used for anything anymore, and now it fell into the residential section of the White House. It was pretty much soundproofed, and was far enough away from the rooms where people traveled that it gave them complete privacy. He had the place set up as an office, then had futons brought in in case he wanted to nap. They met in their new place most of the time now, but not always. They went along like this for over a year, Zelda seemingly suspecting nothing, and the secret service not talking.
One day Veronica talked to him about the 12 foot long snake that Cello had gotten for a birthday present from Zelda. �It�s a beautiful creature, all those green and black scales, and it�s not slimy like I thought.� she said. He looked down on her as he dressed, �You spoke to Cello?� �No no.� she assured. �Your daughter was so excited she brought it around to show everyone. I got to touch it, but I didn�t get a chance to talk to her.� �You liked it?� he asked. She sat up and began to put her clothes back on. �Yes, it was nice. She talked of how it wraps around it�s prey and squeezes it to death, and I can�t help being fascinated by it all.� She smiled, �Even a little turned on by the idea, I think I�d love to feel those scaly coils around my body.� �Yes.� he agreed. �I get a little excited too just thinking about it.� he said as he pulled on his pants. �Anything gets you excited Paul.� she said with a grin. �Me, I don�t know what it is exactly that does it, but it works just as surely as when I watch you strut around naked in your tuba.� �You like my tuba playing?� he said while tying his shoe. �Absolutely!� she slyly said with her fingers crossed behind her back. �But just seeing you wrapped in it is enough.�
When they were both finished dressing, she straightened up while he secured his tuba in a carrying case, and pushed it into the corner. �Any big business today?� she asked as she freshened her make-up and auburn hair. �Not much.� he answered. �That Euclidian mess is finally cooling down, and the terrorists who bombed that building recently are taking the attention away from it. I told my people to take the bombing investigation slow, and now the freak tornado at Disneyland has really helped.� Outside the room, they split at the first opportunity, and she threw him a kiss down the hall before going around the corner. He sighed, hoping no one had seen that, and knowing he�d have to figure out what to do if anyone had. But before he could finish the thought, he was called home to deal with his daughters hysteria because Springs the new snake had eaten Rocks the 1st cat.
About a month later, President Paul Clayton and his family were returning from a vacation at Camp Davidson. They had been away for a week, and he kissed his wife before he and his family walked down the long stairway from the plane, waving and smiling to the crowd of guests, onlookers, and reporters. Once indoors and out of site they split up, Mr. Clayton going towards where his Limo was parked, while Zelda and Cello went to pick up Springs. Being the 1st snake he got to ride inside Air Force One with the Clayton's, but he was Loaded and unloaded separately in a crate for the benefit of the media. The President would take one limo back to the White house, while his family would take another as soon as they had retrieved Springs.
Back at the White House the President dug into his work, glancing at his backlog of papers that had been considered unimportant enough to wait for his return, and he signed them or not one after another. He held a short meeting with his Cabinet, running quickly and superficially through everything. Finally he said that he would take some work to his private office, and wasn�t to be disturbed unless Iraq invaded Iran, or something equally as unlikely.
Veronica had earlier gotten a signal from the President, to meet him for something special instead of their usual meeting planned days in advance. She hadn�t expected this, especially since he just returned from Camp Davidson, so she was full of questions as she waited outside the doors in the nearly deserted section of the White House. When he came, he treated her as he would anyone else in case someone was watching as he unlocked the large door. Inside they kissed, and the files she had carried fell to the floor.
As they turned together to face the room, Veronica saw a huge clear plexiglass tank in the far corner, a large dark mass lying inside it, �What�s going on, and what�s the tank for?� �He smiled, running his fingers through his short curly blonde hair, �A surprise. Remember how you said Cello�s snake effected you. Well, this is Gwenavere, a 32 foot Anaconda, I bought her for us.� As he led her to the tank he continued, �I used public money from the discretionary fund, but it won�t be traced. I also checked, she�s perfectly safe as long as we watch her feeding times.�
Veronica wondered a bit as to who had made the tank. Clearly somebody had made a very large and fully enclosed glass tank for Gwenavere, over 10 feet by 15 feet, reaching nearly to the ceiling, and that person knew something about her and Paul, as well as whoever delivered the snake in the first place. She decided not to worry about it though, figuring the secret service or something had done it all. Paul seemed to have no fear as he walked through the transparent door, but Veronica had to work up to the beast, first patting the huge head, then the body, and finally daring to climb into the tank. They would make love on the futons, watch Gwen in her tank, then make love again. Several times over the following weeks the president brought a small animal, such as a rabbit or drugged pig into the room, and they watched together as Gwen crushed the creature to death in her coils, then swallowed it whole.
Paul had been nervous the first time he had walked into the tank, but had been given more than enough assurances from experts regarding Gwen�s nature, that he forced himself not to show fear in front of Veronica. As time passed they both grew comfortable about entering Gwen�s tank, but always checked the feeding schedule taped near the door first.
One day after making love in the tank, while they lay side by side on their backs, their heads resting on part of Gwenavere�s length as if it were a pillow, and part of her thick muscular tail resting across their naked bodies, his cell phone rang. He knew it had to be pretty important, and after a few words he turned to Veronica, �Be right back, it seems some sort of scuffle has broken out in Yugoslavia. I�ve got to get up and start dressing.� She smiled, �That�s okay, I�ll be right behind you.�
Paul Clayton rose, gently sliding the length of Gwenavere off him, then stepped out of the transparent tank through it�s single door after collecting his few garments. He stood at the far end of the room with his back to the tank, talking into his phone while attempting to dress himself with one hand. Veronica watched him through the thick tank wall, waiting a while as she stroked Gwen�s smooth scales. She could hear him a little through the air holes in the thick plexiglass surrounding her, but they were small and not much help in overhearing him. Still, she really didn�t want to eavesdrop since it might be something she wasn�t supposed to hear, and she thought she ought to be getting back to her job anyway. After a minute Veronica decided that she�d leave, try not to listen or bother him, and she slowly rose to her feet. She collected her red bra and panties from the tank floor, those and his underwear and pants were all they had worn inside the tank, and he had taken his garments on the way out.
At the door she pulled the handle and her hand slipped off. Veronica cursed, whoever had made the damn thing had made a sticky door. She checked, it was unlocked, so she lifted the latch with one hand while pulling with the other. She tried 3 times, each successive effort slightly more than the last, and the door gave, flying inward to strike her in the face.
The door rebounded off her head and back into it�s closed position, as Veronica lost her grip on her clothes and the door latch. As she stumbled backwards her foot hit a resting length of Gwen�s tail, and Veronica fell backwards onto the rest of Gwen. The sudden weight slamming into the great serpent caused it to feel under attack, and instinctively Gwen began throwing coils around Veronica.
Between being hit in the forehead by the door, falling backward, and suddenly being rolled around, Veronica was somewhat dazed for a few moments. As her mind cleared she realized that Gwen had a thick coil around her chest and upper arms, and she felt more annoyance than anything else. As she lay on her back and lifted her head and tried to lift her arms, she found only her right arm could move, and only from the elbow down. She tried to sit, her right hand and arm finding 2 more thick coils which encircled her body and held her lower left arm. She strained but found it almost impossible to sit up with the weight of the giant serpent around her. Veronica was forced flat on her back, then rolled over once again, as another coil went around her thighs and one calf. Veronica found herself on her back again, and she lifted her head and turned to look at Gwenavere�s head resting a few feet away, �Alright Gwen, enough of that. Time to let me up, I�ve got to get back to work.�
Gwenavere�s forked tongue flickered in and out, and the dark green and black coils rippled around her. Within a few moments Veronica realized that she wasn�t being released, then a few moments more told her that the shifting coils were getting tighter. She could see the indentations where skin met scales, as the coil around her chest forced her large breasts down, and she felt the pressure as the coils began tightening, but her mind didn�t want to accept it. She suddenly remembered the animals they had fed to Gwen, and simultaneously felt her lungs having trouble drawing in a breath. Suddenly in horror she fully realized what was happening, she didn�t know why and didn�t stop to figure it out. Veronica began squirming, trying to fight free. Her right arm pushed on a coil, and she screamed as loudly as she could.
Her thrashing agitated Gwen into throwing another coil around Veronica�s kicking lower legs, then Gwen seemed to ignore the struggling woman. Veronica�s screams were already weak from having difficulty breathing, and her continuing shrieks and gasps were further muffled by the plexiglass. She called Paul�s name, and saw him half dressed about 25 feet away, his back still turned to her as he talked on his cell phone. She tried rattling the plexiglass with her free arm but was too far away.
Veronica tried to sit up, but the coils tightened sending her back down. She tried rolling, but the coils held her in place. The coils relentlessly tightened around her as she called for help in a voice which grew steadily weaker. She felt pain from her lungs, and all the muscles that were being compressed, especially from her breast muscles where a coil almost as thick as her body was crushing her. Her mouth hung wide as she gasped for air and her struggles grew weaker. She didn�t realize when Paul turned to see her.
�Oh shit!� Paul said. �What�s wrong Paul?� the voice on the phone asked. He paused, �Remember that intern I told you I�m meeting in an old deserted room?� �Yes.� the voice answered. �And remember that big snake I told you I got for her?� he added. �Yes Paul.� the voice replied. �Well, I don�t know precisely why, but it�s decided to,... have her for lunch.� There was a pause before he began again, �I�ll get the Secret Service in here to get her out.� �No!!� cried the voice. �Then she�d tell everything, the affair, the snake, you wouldn�t survive all that and you�d probably end up paying a huge settlement in court.� �Then I should let the snake,... handle things?� he said tentatively. �Exactly! That way there�s no talk, no exposure, and no lawsuit.� the voice said with assurance. �And best of all, No body to deal with. Just wait a couple of weeks for the snake to fully digest, then get rid of the snake. Don�t forget her clothes, throw them in your tuba case, we can dispose of them later.� Paul sighed, �I love it when your so clever dear.� �Remember that tonight in bed.� the voice answered. �Love you Zelda.� he said. �Love you to Paul.� she replied.
Paul Clayton hung up the cell phone, pulled up a chair, and sat to watch the final moments of Veronica�s life. She weakly twisted and jerked, but the coils held her like steel bands. Her eyes and mouth were wide as she tried to breathe, her calls for help were impossible to hear through the tank walls unless he moved close to an air hole. He couldn�t help feeling aroused by it all, recalling the times they had made love in the tank, and remembering several old movies with jungle heroines fighting giant snakes.
Finally he saw Veronica exhale one last time as the coils tightened around her, then she couldn�t inhale. Her breasts were almost completely flattened, and he saw one nipple poking out from under a thick coil. Veronica rocked her body, kicked her lower legs, and strained virtually all her muscles in a final try to breathe, but the coils seemed to tighten more, then she collapsed into unconsciousness with her mouth and eyes still wide. Paul watched intently as the coils tightened around and held the motionless woman for a short wile, scales shifting only slightly as time passed. Then Gwenavere�s head approached Veronica�s auburn head of hair, the mouth hinges released, and the serpents�s mouth stretched to accept Veronica�s lifeless form. Paul Clayton watched as Veronica�s head entered Gwen�s mouth, then slowly the coils pushed the body in the same direction. When only Veronica from the knees down remained, the head raised and dangling the legs from Gwen�s mouth, he walked around to the door and reached inside to gather up her discarded bra and panties.
He closed and locked the tank door, and walking to his tuba case he threw the under-garments inside, then put the rest of her clothes inside it also. Locking the case he carried it over to the door, planning to take it when he left the room. Returning to his chair he saw a pair of feet disappear down Gwen�s throat, and he wished he had brought a video camera. Then he scoffed, remembering that tapes were what had done in that other president, and he thanked the stars there would be no tape of this. Paul watched as the huge serpent head which was bigger than his own seemed to yawn several times, as the jaws began to realign and reconnect, and as the bulges made by the snake�s last meal continued to move down it�s length. Gwenavere later crawled to one corner of the tank, and curled into a loose bundle of coils to slowly digest her meal.
Paul Clayton finished dressing, then grabbed his tuba case and left the room. He locked the door behind him, already making plans. He couldn�t act like he knew Veronica was dead, and eventually he�d have to say something regarding regret at her inexplicable disappearance. He knew the gossip mongers would be all over this, but they had no facts and he could handle them. �After all,� he mused, �they don�t call me Stall Paul and the Hold Back Kid for nothing.�
The End
by Py