This Savage Season (featuring the Return of Karl Rove's Leather Slave):
Karl Rove has invited Ken Mehlman down to the basement of the White House to view his leather slave. Karl Rove keeps his leather slave tied to a cabinet that contains such ephemera as John Adams' self-flagellation razor strop and Chester Arthur's Pure Buffalo Fat Side-Burn Grease. "Watch this," Rove tells the nervous RNC chairman. "This is what I want you to do." He unbuckles his slacks and Mehlman recoils for a moment at the sight of Rove wearing only a vinyl thong below the waist, its front tightly cupping Rove's balls. Rove orders his leather slave down, and, of course, being a leather slave, he complies with his master. The leather slave bends over in the traditional "presenting" position, kneeling and leaning over Teddy Roosevelt's Filipino-shooting saddle, his bare ass sticking up, much swollen anus ready for reaming. Sweat develops on Mehlman's upper lip.

Rove slaps the leather slave's bottom, pulling the chaps aside. He rips off his thong and he plunges his dick into the leather slave's sphincter. Grunting, fucking, breathing just a little hard, he looks at Mehlman. "You getting this? You understand? Every day I do this, and every day you have to do it, too. Until your dick and this bitch's asshole are bleeding."

"But I'm not..." Mehlman sputters.

"Fuck you. Shut the fuck up," Rove says, "Now get over here and massage my prostate." Reluctantly, but, really, having no choice, Mehlman walks over to Rove and places one, two, three fingers into Rove's ass. Turning to the task at hand, fucking harder now, the leather slave moaning, Karl Rove starts to cry, saying, "Yeah, Dad, you like it, you know it, you know it, fuck you, Dad." With a brief, quickly muted yell of "It's not incest if it's your stepfather," Rove comes, pulling out to spray jism all over his leather slave's back. He turns back to Mehlman. "You can stop now." Mehlman withdraws his hand. "Expertly done," Rove comments. The leather slave quivers but does not ejaculate. He is not allowed.

"Your turn," Rove tells Mehlman. Mehlman looks confused. "You gotta do it right. Now fuck his face." Mehlman tries to protest, but Rove cuts him off. "Just fucking stop it. You know what to do." Mehlman walks to the front of the leather slave. He delicately, deftly unzips the mouth of the slave's leather mask and then his own fly. Mehlman's got a throbbing boner. He puts his pecker in the leather slave's mouth, and, of course, the leather slave hungrily sucks. Mehlman moans, feeling the delirious scrape of zipper teeth on his face-probing cock. "That's right, Kenny, that's right. I used to be able to scream as loud as I wanted. Now I gotta keep it quiet. Fuckers upstairs, you know. But you, you can yell. C'mon, yell, motherfucker. Yell like you're gettin' your dick sucked." Mehlman complies, yelling louder and louder until he comes into the grateful mouth of the leather slave.

Mehlman's still hard, though, and he goes over to Rove and tries to ass fuck the Texan. "Whoa, whoa," Rove says, stepping away, "Get the fuck off me. I'm no fag." Mehlman, embarrassed, zips himself up. He nods, understanding his place in the order of things. "Save it, Kenny," Rove advises. "Save it and give it to Rahm Emmanuel. Give it to Chuck Schumer. Give it to that pissant fucker Dean."

Thong and pants back on, Rove accompanies Mehlman out of the basement. Karl Rove's leather slave, Republican spunk drying on various parts of his flesh and hair, stays bent over the saddle, thinking that it's only the day after Labor Day. It's gonna be a long two months.