“What?!” screeched Sarah into the phone. “How can they say that? What do those silly activists know about birth defects, anyway? Who are they to tell you where you can put your toxic wastes? All they do is eat beans and fart all day. It’s a violation of property rights, pure and simple. Why, after I let Chevron dump all their toxic wastes into the Cook Inlet, now look how wonderfully business has been thriving! Those wastes, think of them as fertilizer!”
“Pardon me, Mrs. Palin.” It was Millie the French Maid. “Your guests have arrived.”
“Sorry, gotta go. Drill, baby drill! Oh right, well. Never mind those gulf coast whiners.”
She slammed the phone into the receiver, and turned to meet her guests. They were already standing in her private den, in a neat line. Everyone else was gone, so it was just her and her cub scouts, and the maid, who was very discreet.
“Thank you, Millie. That will be all for now.” Then, “My, my!” she exclaimed, walking up and down the line of dark blue clad boys, all nine to ten years old. “How I do love a ‘man’ in uniform, so to speak! I welcome you to the special initiation into the tea party. I have initiated over a hundred dens of cub scouts so far, and I can’t tell you how excited I am you’ll be joining me today!”
They all stared at her, silently and submissively, all looking a bit frightened. “Now don’t be scared,” she told them. “I may seem like a stuck-up superficial selfish twit with too much makeup on, but really, you’ll see, I can be a warm and loving person. You’ll find the warmth just pours out of me. Let’s see, first I’ll have you all stand to attention.”
They all complied, and those who were slouching stood up straight. “That’s very nice. Let me inspect the line here. Ah yes, what was your name, little sir?” she asked the one on the end.
“Johnny,” he replied.
“Little Johnny. How lovely! I see that you are standing to attention, but how about your little soldier? Wouldn’t you like a little wooden soldier instead?” and she cut loose with an irritating little cackle.
“Um, certainly, ma’am.” replied little Johnny, not quite knowing what to make of it.
“Why then, let me help out.” She reached out to gently fondle the little lump inside little Johnny’s crotch. The lump grew, as did little Johnny’s eyes.
“Wow, Mrs. Palin. That’s just super.”
With practiced pushing and prodding, Sarah soon had the little soldier standing in line, fully at attention. Johnny’s face was flush with a shy smile.
Sarah moved down the line to the next. “And what is your name?” she asked.
“Fred.”
“Little Freddy! Why, I see your little soldier is already standing at attention. Very good!” She reached down and fondled the little soldier, just to make sure it was wooden. She checked very thoroughly.
“Thank you, Mrs. Palin.”
“How I do love a soldier in uniform. Unless they do something stupid like go get PTSD or anything that makes them not cute anymore.”
And so she proceeded down the line, asking the name of each, and making sure that each one had a full erection. Until she reached one very shy looking blonde boy, the second from the last.
“And what might your name be.”
“Robert.”
“Oh, little Robbie. Your soldier doesn’t seem to be standing up today.”
Robert was very shy.
“Let’s see if we can give him some help. You know, I’m a mommy, too, when I’m not being Governor or pretending I’m a feminist. Sometimes mommy can kiss things and make them better. Would you like that, little Robbie?”
He hesitated, then nodded eagerly.
“You’d like me to kiss your little soldier and make him better?”
He nodded again.
“Well then,” she pulled down his zipper and deftly undid his belt, with the expertise of experience. Soon she had engulfed his tiny shaft in her mouth, testicles and all. His face brightened, and he emitted a tiny high-pitched moan. She let him go so she could speak. “Sometimes he needs some help from behind,” she explained, then plunged his wet member back into her oral orifice, sinking her finger into his tiny anus. His eyes widened as she found the prostate. After about a minute, he came in her mouth, sending little drops of sweetness squirting onto her tongue like candy.
“Did you like that, little Robbie?” she said, swallowing.
He nodded, speechlessly.
“Ok, then. Moving right along,” Sarah stood up, towering over her docile minions. “Have you boys all studied your knots?”
They all gave puzzled looks.
She laughed. “That’s alright. I’ll have to have a little chat with your den mother. I’ll tie her up in knots!” she squeaked out a kinky giggle. “Well, today I’m your den mother. So how about buttons, do any of you little men know how to unfasten buttons?” They all nodded. “How about zippers?” They all nodded again. “So let’s play a little game. Let’s see how fast you can take off all my clothes!”
In a flash, they surrounded her, and had pulled her down to the ground.
“Easy, now!” she exclaimed, laughing. But it was too late. The boys had smelled blood, and now they set about ripping off every shred of garment. Boys can be like that.
Soon she lay naked before them, as they encircled her on the floor, still in their uniforms. Some had their hands down their pants, others just stared at her vast amounts of pale flesh. The more bold ones were caressing, entranced by the sensation of her skin on their palms and fingers.
One of the cub scouts was staring at something he had discovered.
“Ah, little Teddy here has discovered my pet beaver, the one that I keep between my legs.” She spread them wider for him. “You want to pet her?” He did. “Gently now, stroking. There, that’s just lovely, isn’t it? You too. Come over, I can see you looking. There we go. Nice beaver. . .” and then, for a minute she couldn’t say anything.
Nine-year-old Johnny had his hand down his pants. “I’ve got Goldman Sacks!” he exclaimed.
She recovered her voice in a whisper. “You like gold, little Johnny?”
He nodded, grinning, one hand down his pants and the other gently caressing up and down the delicate crevice between her thighs, sending tingles up her spine.
“I’ve got an idea, Johnny. Did you ever play pretend?”
He nodded vigorously once more.
“Good. Let’s pretend you’re a corporate CEO. Lie down on your back, get in the mood to pretend. Yes, that’s it, you can pet her later. Just relax. Oh, I see your little zipper is undone.”
“It got stuck, Mrs. P.”
“That’s alright. It will save time.” She got down on her hands and knees, over him, her breasts dangling almost to touching his neatly pressed navy blue shirt. “So let’s say you’re a nice wealthy CEO, and the nasty Securities and Exchange Commission and the United Nations want to take away your nice company for some silly reason, say, that thousands of poor people lost their retirement accounts. Say you’re Alan Keating, a nice Christian man like me.”
“You mean, you’re a man?” asked little Larry.
“No, silly!” she laughed. I’m a Christian. A good charitable Christian soul, but I get sooo tired of the way the poor whine so much. As if we didn’t live in the greatest Christian country in the world. So let’s say you’re one of those unfortunate people who got all singled out for persecution by the liberals, say Kenny Lay. Poor, innocent martyr. You know, Jesus was persecuted by liberals too? You need a bailout, and that means gold. Do you like gold, Johnny?”
All the other boys circled around, watching intently, or playing with themselves, or each other. Some were still curiously caressing the naked woman in the middle of them.
“Yes, Mrs. P. I love gold.” He was staring intently at her breasts and nipples. He kept trying to sneak another look at her vagina, but her breasts hung in the way.
“Oh, what a nice little boy you are. So let’s say I’m the U.S. Government, and I tell you that you could have all of the gold you like, just by turning the bailout spigots.”
“The spigots?”
“You know, water faucets.”
“I don’t see any of those, Mrs P,” said Johnny, puzzled.
Sarah smiled at him, and winked slyly. “Make believe,” she said, nudging her breasts closer to his face. “Just touch one of them.”
“Oh, those?” he reached out and gently twisted one of her nipples.
“Oh my God. That’s just wonderful, little Johnny. You turned on the spigot. Now here we go, Golden Shower! Yay!”
Little Johnny’s face illuminated as he felt the warm liquid on his exposed organ. “My uniform! It’s getting all wet,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “We can wash it. God, I love that feeling.” The acrid fluid gushed and spread in a puddle across the floor. She flexed up to spray all over his chest and face. “Oh, God,” she said. “I had a whole pot of tea just so I could do this. Oh God! If I close my eyes I can pretend you’re one of those dirty old homeless people I’d love to just piss on!”
“Wow, Mrs. P, my wee-wee is getting all long and stiff!” exclaimed Johnny, his face covered with yellow liquid.
“Hey — they don’t call me Mrs P. for nothing!” she shouted.
A soft voice in the back piped up: “What if someone is homeless because the economy is so fouled up on account of the money being wasted on the war?”
Sarah’s face hardened. “Rex!” she barked. “It’s a socialist! Kill him!”
A pit-bull leapt out from the shadows and clamped its jaws around the neck of the young boy who had just spoken.
“Gkkk!” the poor young lad made choking sounds as the attack animal dragged him off.
“What will you tell his mother?” asked little Larry.
“We’ll just say he fell out of the helicopter when we were shooting helpless animals from it. Now. A moment of silence,” she said solemnly, sitting naked on the floor beside Johnny, who was still lying there, in his sopping uniform. “Let us pray. Repeat after me: I have accepted Jesus into my heart.”
They repeated in unison “I have accepted Jesus into my heart.”
“So I know that all my sins. . .”
“. . .all my sins. . .”
“Have been forgiven.”
“. . .forgiven.”
“Amen.”
“Amen.”
And she bowed her head for a minute, hands clasped together in prayer.
After another solemn pause, she lifted up her face, gleefully grinning. And exclaimed: “Alright then. Let’s have us an orgy!”
Followed by cheering such as can only be heard from a roomful of horny nine- and ten-year old boys knowing they’re about to have sex. “My wee-wee is all stiff!” repeated little Johnny.
“Well then. It’s time to put it in the wee-wee softener. But you had better get out of those ucky pants, first.” She helped him off with his piss-drenched uniform, and soon he lay naked and tiny beneath her bare brazen sexiness.
“It won’t hurt, will it?”
Sarah laughed. “No, Johnny. It’s going to feel so good you won’t know what hit you. Where are you now?” she groped around for his penis. “Oh, there you are. That’s a nice upright soldier. Ok, get ready for the wee-wee softener!”
She settled down gently, until the tip of his tiny organ penetrated her moist, dripping chamber.
“Oh my God!” said little Johnny. “Wow, Mrs. P!”
She descended until he was fully inside her. “Oh, yes!” she squealed.
Then she felt Dicky’s tiny cock penetrate her anus. “Drill, Dicky! Drill it into me. That’s right. Drill, baby, drill!”
Little Nicky was standing in front of them, so Sarah reached over and grabbed his tiny hot dog, pulling him over to her mouth. He was panting and puffing, and it looked like he had been playing with it rather seriously.
The bliss she felt with little Dicky’s 9-year old stiff little penis writhing in her asshole, and little Johhny’s in her cunt, exploded in a burst of orgasm as Nicky’s 10-year-old cock spurted cum into her mouth.
“Mrs. Palin, you are getting me all wet,” said little Johnny, beneath her.
“Oh my God,” she shrieked. “This is even more fun than firing 30 millimeter shells at baby harp seals from a helicopter!!”
Neddy and Teddy appeared on either side and began suckling her nipples. Little 9-year olds Roddy and Toddy were jerking off in her face. She took turns sucking on either one of them, until Roddy looked like he was about to ejaculate.
“Spray the glasses! Aim for the glasses!” and streams of white fluid spurted forth, all over Sarah’s nose and spectacles. Toddy followed soon after, covering the lenses even more in thick, white secretion.
“I just love having little boy cum all over my glasses!” Laughed Sarah Palin wildly. She felt more warm juice spurting over her left buttock.
And the orgy continued in this manner for several hours. . .
Little Tommy raised his hand. “Mrs. Palin, don’t you think maybe we were, um, not supposed to do all this fun stuff?”
“Good question, little Tommy,” replied Sarah. “Today, I hope we all learned a valuable lesson. Can anyone tell me what it is?”
Little Bobby raised his hand. “The lesson for today was that it’s not about doing what’s right, but about shameless cynical exploitation of the innocent for the sake of gaining power and personal gratification!”
“Very good, Bobby! I’m glad to see that someone read the Tea Party pamphlet. Bobby will make an excellent Republican politician someday. All he has to do is complain about the government so he can get elected and mess it up even more. Well then, boys, let’s all go have some Lipton’s while Millie the French maid cleans up the little mess we made here. I wouldn’t want any of you gaining any sense of personal responsibility.”
And with that, she led her cub scouts into the other room where they enjoyed a very pleasant tea party.