The President’s Little Sweetheart by Shelly Douglas – Sample

Prologue

Shutting the door to the Oval Office, David Buck walked over to his hand-carved mahogany desk where Cassidy stood waiting for him. In an obvious attempt to keep the corners of his lips from curving up into a smile, he tilted his head to the side, admiring her submissive pose.

With her pouty expression angled downward and her silky dark brown bobbed hair covering her carnation pink cheeks, she looked like an adorable little girl who knew she was about to be disciplined.

“Has it been that long since you’ve had a good spanking?” he asked, his eyebrow darting upward.

Shrugging like a defiant teenager, she glanced through her bangs. Though Cassidy’s face was aflame with embarrassment, his low velvety tone had her belly coiling with desire.

“What were you thinking today, sweetie?”

Straightening up, she nervously turned in the president’s direction. “I just got carried away in the heat of the moment. I’m really sorry I spoke out of turn.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are, young lady.”

Her vivid green eyes suddenly narrowed with defiance. “Jesus, can’t you ever just forgive and forget?”

The muscles in David’s square jaw seemed to flex as his gaze darkened. “Don’t even think about playing that card with me right now. You know that type of behavior is never permitted in any of my meetings, and you’ve already been scolded once this week. Am I right, Cassie Sue?”

Not having a good retort, she inclined her head and pursed her lips in response.

“Drop your skirt and bend over the desk.”

Cassidy’s heavy sigh was audible as she shimmied the navy fabric down her long, lean legs and rested her hands on the desktop before jutting her covered backside out on display. The president walked around his desk, hooked his thumbs into the sides of her white cotton underpants, and roughly jerked them down.

“Please, David,” she groaned. “How will I be able to sit at dinner tonight? The whole staff will know I’ve been punished.”

Opening his top desk drawer, he removed a slender, short-handled oak paddle, tapped it on her creamy thigh and applied a hard swat across the bottom of her lush raised buttocks. The blaring sound echoed throughout the room like a sharp, loud crack of a toy cap gun being fired. “Haven’t we talked about this?”

“Yesss,” Cassidy hissed through clenched teeth, her body jolting upright from the sharp pain.

“Stay in position,” he warned in a sharp but even tone. “What happens when you speak out of turn at an important meeting?”

“I get a spanking, sir,” she mumbled as her voice quivered, her eyes brimming with tears while compliantly bending back over.

“That’s right, little lady. You get your naughty heinie spanked good and hard. And why is it that rules are so important to us?” he asked, stretching her soft buttock upward, the loud splat landing directly across the taut crease, sending a seismic wave that rippled to the core of her trembling body.

She squirmed and wriggled as her skin sizzled from the impact of the stiff wood. “B-Because you have a country to run.”

“Sometimes I think your disobedience is just a test to see if I’ll discipline you. To see if I care for you. Well, how’s this for an answer?” As he swatted each globe repeatedly, her alabaster skin quickly transformed into a hue of cherry red. Cassidy tried to rid herself of the fiery burn by rocking on her heels, but the president was having none of her disobedience.

“Be still,” he chided in a low growl, his warm fingers pressing the cleft of her sex, his thumb tapping the tender opening of her nerve-filled rosette.

“Please, I don’t like that,” she lied as her clitoris ached for his touch, his digit pressing further into her shivering anus.

“Behave.” David’s finger slid inside her soaked, wanton pussy lips and relentlessly rubbed circles around her aching clit before smacking the lower part of her smooth, luscious behind. “I think my misbehaved girlfriend is lying. You want me deep inside your ass,” he whispered in her ear before landing another crack onto each inflamed cheek. “Don’t you?”

Inhaling a short, gasping breath, her voice was barely recognizable. “Please let me come. I’m so close…”

But he slid his thumb from her tight rosebud, wiped it on her thigh, and gave her one final smack across her crimson backside. Cassidy shook her head and bucked backward, her bottom bereft of his heated touch, the spicy aroma of her arousal filling the air.

David’s voice softened as his bulging, throbbing cock protruded through his pants, bumping into her hip. “Stand up, missy.”

“Please! I was almost… there!”

Strong digits stroked her reddened, trembling buttocks. “That was supposed to be a punishment—not a reward, sweet pea. Now pull your panties up over your sore fanny so I can escort you to dinner.”

Knowing that she would find lust rather than anger in his amber-shaded eyes, Cassidy composed herself and turned, taking in his large, six-foot-three frame. “Yes, Daddy,” she said respectfully, trying not to grin.

Chapter One

Six months earlier

January 1966

Swiveling away from the Resolute desk, President Buck leaned back in his leather-bound chair, gazing out the set of three curved windows that allowed for a panoramic view of the south lawn and the rose garden. Since there hadn’t been any activity outside all day, the snow that had fallen the night before remained a beautifully unblemished white blanket—not too unusual that time of year. After all it was a cold, crisp day in the middle of winter, and the premises were gated and heavily guarded.

David took a moment to muse over his professional good fortune. He was in the final months of his first term of presidency and peace talks with North Vietnam were still a bit dodgy, but he remained hopeful. His reelection efforts were going as planned, and the polls had him up ten points, but he knew they could swing one way or the other at the drop of hat. The economy, the one issue that most Americans passionately cared about, was steady and the unemployment rate was teetering around four percent, which was a good number. But even with all the excitement of his political career, his broken heart still ached.

After whirling to lean his elbows against the large antique mahogany desk, David’s eyes moved to the picture of his late wife, Barbara. They’d met as freshmen at Penn State University and married four years later, shortly after graduation. He’d gone on to law school before joining his dad’s firm in Philadelphia, and even though he enjoyed practicing law, there had been a burning desire in his belly to do something more worthwhile with his life. It was after a series of family discussions that he decided to enter the political arena, and while not unprecedented, he’d been fortunate to win his first run for the Senate. Still gazing at the photo, he took a moment to bask in the memory of the love of his life, his rock throughout the entire process. It had been their youth, energy, and a message of change that resonated with the people in the Keystone State.

Brushing his fingers through his graying, blondish brown hair, tears welled in his eyes. He had just thrown his hat in the presidential ring when Barbara had been diagnosed with cancer at the age of thirty-eight. And though his family fortune had allowed him to provide the best treatment, she had been taken from his world, which was never the same again. The devastation he had endured was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

The only way David knew how to cope was to keep busy and devote a great deal of his agenda to taking on the war against that deadly disease, whenever possible. If he couldn’t help his wife, then he would make damn sure he’d help millions of others in their fight. The support of the American people had been overwhelming. And though the medical community had made great strides during his tenure, he wasn’t satisfied. Still, there was no cure for the dreaded disease in sight.

Looking at the young boy in the photo who stood between him and his wife brought a smile to his face. Brady was in his second year of college now, Yale nonetheless. Given all that their son had to deal with growing up, he’d matured remarkably well. It wasn’t easy being a teenager without a mother, and since David had been elected president, all the distractions that came with his job made it difficult for the young man to lead a normal life. Brady would always complain that he couldn’t even get a simple date with all the Secret Service hanging around. But despite the hand they had been dealt, his son was happy, and David took great pride in the fact that he’d done right by him.

Unfortunately, despite all his professional success, David’s own personal life was stagnant. Whenever he stepped out of the White House doors, he was constantly hounded and scrutinized. Although Time Magazine declared him America’s most eligible bachelor, he was starved for the loving touch of a woman. You’d think with his own private airplane and a staff of hundreds, he’d been able attract someone special. But that was the conundrum, wasn’t it? Finding just the right woman wasn’t all that easy, at least not for him.

The corners of his lips curved upward, as he remembered the domestic discipline and ageplay lifestyle he’d shared with Barbara. Had the press ever uncovered their unconventional relationship, he probably wouldn’t have been elected. But the caring, nurturing dominance that had led their lives had been the foundation for that magical time they had together. He mused over the fact that women had been moving in the direction of independence and open relationships. Wanting a man to be the head of their household was not on the agenda for the modern woman of the 1960s, and David had begun to doubt that he’d ever again enjoy the kind of romantic fire he desired.

Knocking twice on the desk, he tried to snap himself out of that familiar, melancholy mood. There is important work to be done.