AIDS In the White House

Shondrelle Mercedes met President Wolf Kitcher during his second year in office, after the Corona Wars.

It was not a chance meeting, nor was it one in which she took any particular pride. Wolf was known as a womanizer and a playboy. They called him Pickle Dick though, because one prostitute famously compared his penis to a pickle. On the internet, it was often referred to as a “dickle”.

Shondrelle met Wolf because he had ordered a special package from her. It was an exclusive service she offered, one that required her to dress up as a nurse and administer an injection. And of course, she could put whatever she liked in them, allowing her to rob her clients blind. So, in a way, she couldn’t believe her luck, but in another, she wasn’t looking forward to having to attend to the pickle.

They met at the White House, which Shondrelle thought was particularly gutsy – no doubt he was hoping to impress her, and she couldn’t deny that it was an impressive place. She arrived via a limousine he had sent for her. She was escorted inside by the Secret Service and made to wait for twenty minutes in the East Room.

When she finally entered his office, Wolf was sitting behind a large desk, smoking a cigar and reading something. Eugh. Cigars, really?

He didn’t look up as she walked across the room and stood in front of his desk.

“You ordered an injection, sir?” she asked.

Wolf finally looked up. “Oh, good. You’re here.”

He had a thin face, and his eyes were dark and piercing. Throughout their encounter, though, they became soft and unfocused. He was a strange man, not at all the brash and confident leader everyone thought he was. Several times, he stuttered, and once, he even blushed. As for the dickle, well, that was easy to manage.

Shondrelle stole his tie and later auctioned it off to some friends. She also arranged for a future visit, this one in his bedroom. It was a simple task. He had the hots for her, and he was easily manipulated. Shondrelle had been blessed with an irresistible body, and she knew how to use it.

During her visit, she asked him lots of questions, and he was very eager to please.

“Yes,” he said, “there was this one alien I had a special relationship with. Her name was Pryllanna. She had a tail, and four breasts, and three fingers on each hand.”

“Oh, my!”

“Yes. It’s true. She was beautiful.”

“You are a weirdo!” She said it casually so he’d take it as a joke, but she meant it. He was a total pervert.

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. “I guess so.”

“Tell me about your childhood,” Shondrelle said, stroking his hair.

“Well, I was famous from a young age. I’m still not really sure why, but I’ve always assumed it’s because my mother is famous, and I was her son. People wanted to know all about me. They took photographs and asked me a lot of questions. My dad was never around. I think he was a drunk or something.”

“That’s terrible,” said Shondrelle. “Where does a kid learn to become a womanizer?”

“Oh, no. I’m not a womanizer. I’m a romantic.”

“Sure you are.”

“No, I am,” he said. “I know I have a reputation, but it’s not like that. I’m just a big softy. I’m a pussycat.”

Shondrelle tittered, and Wolf looked hurt.

“Anyway,” he said. “Let’s not get into that. What else do you want to know?”

“How rich are you?”

“Very. I’ve made billions from various investments. I have a lot of money. You can borrow some if you want.”

“I’d never pay it back,” said Shondrelle.

“I don’t care. You’re beautiful. I’d give you anything you want.”

Shondrelle laughed. He was so pathetic. She’d gladly squeeze every cent she could out of him.

“What are you going to do with the alien technology?” she asked.

“Use it to travel to the past and help humanity achieve its true potential,” he said. “See, at certain points in history, if things had gone slightly different, the course of human events would have changed dramatically.”

“You’re going to change history?”

“I’m going to make it better.”

“Good for you. I’m sure you’ll make a difference. Can I have a thousand dollars?”

“Done.”

“Thanks, Mr President.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Call me Wolf.”

“Okay. Thanks, Wolf.”

“You’re welcome, Shondrelle.”

The following month was great. Shondrelle bought a new apartment, a nice car, and several outfits. She heard that the FBI had warned Wolf about her, and he didn’t seem too concerned. In fact, he seemed more interested in her than ever.

“I’m in love with you,” he said one night, after a particularly intense session of lovemaking.

“No, you’re not,” Shondrelle told him.

“I am. I’m serious. You mean even more to me than Pryllanna.”

Gee, thanks.

“You’re such a charmer,” she said. “Now, let’s go again.”