Ronald Rump and Mallory Clint Have a Show for You
...........I continued walking
towards the familiar faces that brought me to the party. I coyly walked past
known politicians that had dominated many national and syndicated news
programs; I didn’t want to get caught awkwardly staring at anyone. By the time
I approached the sitting area and could see Tracy, my attention was re-directed
to one of the power couples at the party. There they were, the current governor
of Arkansas and his power wife. I found it funny they were dressed as Bonnie
and Clyde.
The Clints , Phil
and Mallory, worked a room like no other couple I had ever seen before. She was
poised, intelligent, but laid back enough that she appeared approachable. The
couple appeared like they were a unified force. The way they shot quick glances
at each other, even though they were involved in different conversations at opposite
ends of the room. Even when they were engaged with other people, they still
watched each other. It was like they were both predators in a room full of
potential prey. One predator was ok with whatever the other predator wanted to
do next. They were deliberate and determined. At least, that was my first
impression.
As I continued
towards an empty chair, I was approached by a tall and sleazy looking man.
Before I could make my way past him, he reached out and grabbed my arm and
gripped firmly until I stopped in my path. His smile was forced and his breath
smelled of alcohol.
He leaned closer to
whisper in my ear, and said, “I have a very important man who wants to meet
you. Don’t say you have somewhere else to be, please. Don’t embarrass yourself.
Where I want to take you is better than any place you’re headed, darlin.”
He squeezed my arm
tighter, as if he wanted me to feel his control, his power.
I felt anger swell
inside. How dare this person handle me this way, I thought. I didn’t want to
make a scene. Then, within a few seconds, a tall and somewhat pudgy man
appeared from behind a group of people. I recognized the man. He appeared even
worse in person that he did in the media. looked even worse than how he looked
in the media. His pores were huge and his face was oily. He looked like he
needed to take a rice paper and blot his skin, repetitively. His hands looked tiny
and his fingers resembled small, stubby cocktail sausages. When he talked, his
lips pursed outward like he wanted to quack. Yes, everything about him made me
nauseous. Needless to say, I was not impressed by the man waiting for his introduction.
Mr. Ronald Rump was anything but sexy. In fact, he bordered on repulsive.
As he sauntered
over to engage in conversation, I wanted to bolt. Seriously, why did he want to
talk with me? Ugh.
Ronald wasted no
time. He leaned in towards me and said, “Wow, what a plump ass, curvaceous
hips, and an unbelievably small waistline you have. You grow up on a farm?”
His hands reached
in and his fingers rested on my hips. He was standing directly in front of me.
My back against a wall.
In my head, I
thought, “What the fuck?” I tried to squirm away, but he tightened his grip.
Ronald then leaned
closer, his breath smelled like barbecue masked by spearmint, and he said,
“Damn, girl,” as he held my hips tight, “You look like you’ve had your share of
grits, corn, and steak.” Then he stereotypically palm planted his stubby
fingers across my derriere and squeezed my butt cheeks.
He wouldn’t let go.
I stood there with his hand glued to my backside. I was frozen for a moment. My
temper enraged, but my rational side told me to remain calm. Why? I have no
clue, but within that moment of dubiety, I watched Mallory fixate on what was
happening to me. I felt exposed. I felt taken advantage of; and now someone
else caught me in a vulnerable moment.
I calmly looked at
Ronald. His hand was still on my ass. I quietly commanded, “Get your
motherfucking hands off my ass, creep.” He didn’t listen, in fact, he squeezed
tighter as if he was turned on, or pressing the situation.
I grabbed his hand
in an attempt to remove it from my body, but this chump took it as an
opportunity to flaunt me to people walking by, as if he just picked me up as
his party favor. There was an obvious covert struggle going on between his
hands trying to touch more of my body and my blatant blocks to keep him away.
Ronald thought this
little struggle was amusing. He whispered in my ear, “Yes, honey. Keep it up. I
like it when they squirm.”
Squirm? Did he just
say squirm? I couldn’t believe how disgusting this asshole was. As I fought to
remove myself from his tentacles, he reached around with one hand and held my
back and pulled me close to his body. He took his other hand and worked it down
my front side and fingered the outline of my pussy.
“You know you like
it, honey.” Ronald had a firm grip on me
as he held me close to his chest and continued to slide his fingers up and down
the outside of my underwear.
I resisted as best
as I could, but, I somehow still didn’t want to make a scene. What the fuck, I
thought. Here I am getting manhandled in the middle of a party, and people
think this is ok?
I felt pissed. My
body was pressed hard against his chest, and this looked completely natural to people.
After a few moments
elapsed, I heard a female voice standing beside me. I then felt a delicate hand
placed on my shoulder.
The voice said,
“Really, Ronald? Are you trying to pass off a potential rape scene as the
entertainment for the party?”
Ronald loosened his
grip on me. Thank god, I thought. If being held in a bear hug as my pussy was
grabbed wasn’t bad enough, Ronald’s armpits smelled as ripe as hot trash left
on a pile of shit.
As soon as I
unfolded from his unwelcomed grip, I saw her standing right there next to us. It
was Mallory. She watched while I was aggressively fondled by a douchebag of a
businessman. Mallory had a slight smirk on her face, as she gave me a once
over. As I looked around to see if anyone else was watching, I saw him. Grant.
He saw, too.
Within moments,
Mallory asked, “Is drunk Ronald bothering you, Miss?”
My mask was still
on my face, so I felt somewhat shadowed, and not as exposed as I felt on the
inside.
Ronald’s body immediately
tensed. I could tell Mallory intimated him.
Ronald looked at
me, as if he had been caught doing something he knows he should not have done.
Ronald tried to
quickly compose himself, although his untucked shirt and messy hair prevented
him from looking appropriately dressed. He then asked, “Mallory, is Phil trying
to fuck someone else for campaign money?”
Mallory looked at
me. Her face was stern, yet soft enough to make her next words a welcome
message to my ears. She then said, “Miss, watch yourself in surroundings like
this. Power, politics and parties tend to normalize real fucked up shit.”
Mallory paused for a moment; and without breaking her eye
contact with me, she then stepped on Ronald’s foot with her heel and twisted
her foot. She then continued, “Unless you need funding, I’d suggest you stay
away from these troubled circles.”
Mallory then looked
at Ronald and sarcastically asked, “Speaking of money, bitch. I thought you
were going to give more to Phil’s campaign. We need to go talk in private.”
Within minutes,
Mallory and Ronald walked towards an empty hallway on the other side of the
room. Where they went, I have no clue.
