PEG (Dirty Tricks Book 1)

by Carrie Breeze

  Contents

  PEG!

  Continue Reading

  Copyright

  PEG!

  Carrie Breeze

  Other works by Carrie

  Thirsty

  P CLUB

  Got Jacked

  Pork

  Big Bad Stepbrother

  Stepbrother Lover

  Chapter 1

  “These are hard times,” candidate Johnson Blunt (code-name Iron Balls) shouts out at the crowd of rabid supporters. “We gotta take the world by the balls! This country’s gotta get back to being the tough bastard she once was! She’s gotta get back her respect! As your leader I’ll put her back on top!”

  Deafening applause.

  BLUNT! BLUNT! BLUNT!

  That arrogant shit’s in need of a good ramming. You’re mine big boy. I’m gonna stick it to the most powerful man on earth. That’s why I took this job. I’m gonna fuck Johnson Tiberius Blunt. The most powerful man in the world. Bank on it. Ms. Peg Masters is gonna ride you, Mr. Blunt. Gonna ride you like the great national wet dream. As a member of your personal security squad, it’s my duty to protect your ass at all times, Mr. Blunt. I’m gonna be on your ass so tight you’re gonna nominate me as your ramming mate.

  We’re at a rally somewhere in the Midwest. I don’t know which state. We’re just moving too fast. We’re at some outdoor arena. Could be a state fair show ground. Some kind of livestock arena. But it looks like ten thousand people standing out there. Crowding the stage. That’s where I am. No more than five feet behind Blunt. He’s walking the stage. Cordless mic in hand. Working the crowd. The entire security team is on a heightened sense of alert because of the recent terrorist strike in Brussels.

  “This nation needs to get Blunt!” He shouts.

  Mad applause.

  “What do you think of Connie Chilton’s stance on terrorism?” Someone from the crowd shouts, referring to Blunt’s Democrat opponent.

  “I’m sure Connie can make a mean apple pie. But, I’m sorry, she just doesn’t have the balls to keep this country safe.”

  Mad applause.

  What a fricking dink. I’m really going to stick it to him.

  DOWN WITH BLUNT!

  A loud anti-Blunt demonstration is raging outside the show grounds fence.

  DUMP BLUNT! PUNT BLUNT!

  As a member of Iron Balls’ personal security team I’m alert to every movement he makes. My peripheral vision takes in the slightest motion from anything within spitting range.

  I haven’t laid my girlfriend, Lizzi, in a couple weeks. That’s how long we’ve been on the road. The intensity of all this campaigning’s really got me horny. Horny intense.

  Bet you’re wondering how a woman gets to work security for a top political candidate. Connections. Dad was Secret Service. Growing up, he taught me all the tricks of personal security. Stealth shadowing. Total vigilance. Complete awareness of your environment. Subduing combatants. We used to play bodyguard at rock concerts when I was in high school. I’d protect him. We’d be in the crowd. I’d see someone accidentally make a sudden move toward dad. Poor shit who made the move would suddenly find himself on the hardwood gym floor sporting a sprained ankle.

  Getting back to Iron Balls, he’s got four people on his personal security detachment. There was one opening left when I applied and I had to fight for it. Me and this guy interviewed for it together. We’re both in the campaign manager’s office. Standing side by side in front of his desk.

  “Ms. Masters,” the manager asks me. “How bad do you want this job? What makes you qualified to protect the future leader of the free world?”

  Without saying a word, I swiftly stretch my right arm out behind my competition, grab his collar, and slam his face down on the manager’s desk. Poor guy crumples to the floor holding his face, groaning.

  “When can you start?” the manager says, staring wide eyed.

  See, to maintain my competitive edge, I belong to an all girls erotic wrestling league. Three rounds per match. First two rounds we get down and dirty flopping around on the mat like landed fish. Points are awarded for displayed acts of domination. Stripping off the other girl’s bikini. Titty groping. Nipple biting. Pussy whipping. Winner gets to free-for-all fuck the opponent in the final round. This all happens in front of a crowd of some fifty drooling perverts. I’m reigning champ. It pays the bills.

  I pump iron. Teach Tae Kwon Do. Fitness train for Iron Woman competition.

  But that’s all been put on hold till after the campaign.

  Right now, Iron Balls owns my ass 24/7.

  Like I said, I haven’t lain with my girl, Lizzi, in weeks. We do phone sex. Right now I’m so fucking horny.

  SHIT!

  A glint of gray gun metal flashes in my peripheral vision.

  Blunt is directly in front of me working up the crowd.

  Pure muscle reflex has me leaping at Iron Balls. He’s not much bigger than me. He’s five-ten. One-sixty. I’m five-seven. One-fifty. I slam the full force of my weight into his back. Entwine my left foot around his left calf. He falls face down on the stage. My steel-cable thighs straddle his legs.

  Three gunshots ring through the air in rapid succession.

  Screams.

  Pandemonium.

  People running.

  Iron Balls is stretched out prone. Wind knocked out of him. I’m sprawled out on his back. Putting my body between him and the gunman. Just like I’ve been trained. I double arm-bar him to keep him from trying to get up before it’s safe. He struggles. I grind my pelvis into his buttocks. I control him. My nose nudges his freshly trimmed hair-line. His aftershave smells like a lemon grove.

  “You’re going to be alright, Mr Blunt,” I breath into his ear. “We just gotta lay low till the other agents have the situation under control.”

  Three security agents have wrestled the gunman to the ground.

  “Get me up right now, agent,” Blunt growls. “That’s an order. I can’t be seen like this.”

  “Sorry, sir. Just doing my job. This is a crisis situation. I’m in control.”

  I got a huge clit from steroids and pumping iron. It’s my mini cock and right now it’s fully erect. Danger turns me on. I’m so horny I’m dry humping Blunt’s ass.

  He tries to throw me off.

  “Don’t try to get up, sir. Not safe yet.”

  I nip his ear lobe and tighten my double arm-bar hold.

  Blunt grunts. Tries to shake me. He tires and submits.

  “What’s your name?” Blunt pants, his breath hot on my cheek.

  “Agent Peg Masters, sir,” expecting to be fired.

  “Agent Masters, I want you to fuck me as hard as you can.”

  “Sir?” grinding my raging clit into his crack. My pussy is sopped. On the verge of coming.

  Spectators’ arms are waving cell phones in the air, captures the event. Me straddling Blunt. The other agents as they cuff and remove the would be assassin.

  “Not here. Not now,” Blunt breathes. “I’ll contact you after the debriefing.”

  “Agent Masters,” the campaign manager approaches. “The situation is under control. Let Mr. Blunt up.”

  Chapter 2

  I’m guarding the entrance to the banquet hall at the Majestic Hotel. Inside Blunt is fielding questions from the press. Reassuring them he’s unharmed and that the assassination attempt will in no way slow his campaign.

  “Ms. Masters.”

  I turn to see the campaign manager. He’s approaching me holding up his cell phone for me to see something.

  “Take a look at this. This has gone viral.”

  My jaw drops. I’ll be fucked. It’s me humping Blunt for all the world to see.

  “This
is more deadly than that assassin’s bullet could ever have been.” He’s screaming in my face. “Hand me your badge, your gun, and leave the hotel. You’re fired.”

  “You can’t do this,” I shout back. “He needs me. People are out to get him.”

  “Ms. Masters,” he sighs. “For all I know the campaign might as well be dead. Please cooperate.”

  Reluctantly, I hand my piece to him. There goes my chance to fuck Blunt. But, I have been missing the sweet taste of pussy. This is my chance to hook up with Lizzi. I catch the first flight back to Minneapolis.

  She opens the door to her posh Uptown condo. I jump her bones. Locking lips. Groping her tight ass.

  “Peg, you’re such a beast,” Lizzi moans between kisses. Then she pushes me off. “I know it’s been a few weeks but let’s take five to catch up. Want a drink?”

  “Jack, straight up as usual, babe,” following her inside. “I’ve just been canned….”

  I’m interrupted by the padding of feet coming out of the bedroom.

  Who the fuck?

  This fortyish bitch, buck naked, with melon tits and a bush the size of Texas comes out. Wraps her flabby arm around Lizzi, kisses her cheek, and flashes a barracuda smile.

  “I’m sorry, didn’t know we had a guest, darling.”

  Guest!? Who is this bitch?

  “Peg, this is Janice. I meant to tell you….”

  “Peg, Liz has told me so much about you,” holding out her hand. I ignore it.

  “Liz… how can you do this to me?”

  “I think I’ll go throw something on.”

  I watch bitch Janice’s flabby ass jiggle its way back into the bedroom and then make for the kitchen and pour myself a double Jack. Lizzi is right behind me. Pour her one. She ignores it.

  “What, don’t I satisfy you anymore?” Take a burning swallow of Jack. Damn right. Needed that.

  “It’s not that, Peg. You’re great in bed. It’s just that I need a lover who’ll be here for me everyday.”

  “Like I said, Blunt canned my ass today. Now there’s no reason for me to be gone,” reaching for her waist. She grabs my hand and squeezes it, raises it to her lips and kisses my fingers. She lowers it and holds it tenderly.

  “I’m afraid there’s no way to put this delicately, Peg… Janice and I have made a commitment to each other.”

  “How the hell… you barely know her,” taking my hand away and tossing back the rest of my Jack. My heart is imploding into my chest. Feels worse than any gunman or terrorist could ever make me feel. “It couldn’t be more than a couple weeks, right?”

  “We just bonded straight off. Mutual love at first sight. We feel we’re meant for each other for ever.”

  “Please, don’t say that, Liz. I love you. And you love me.”

  “Yes, sweetie, I do. But, it’s more of a physical thing. What Janice and I have it’s… it’s like our souls are one.”

  The pain is caving-in my chest. I need my Jack. Fuck the glass. I grab the bottle and chug.

  “Sweetie, don’t,” grabbing the bottle from me. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself. You’ll get through this. I’ll help you. We can still see each other,” hugging me. “But only as friends.”

  That hurts.

  “Lizzi, we’ve been together for two years.” My voice is shaky. Tears roll down my cheeks. She strokes my hair.

  “Let go, dear. You’ll feel better. Let’s go cuddle on the couch.” She guides me out into the living room.

  “Look at me, a bad ass bodyguard blubbering like a pussy,” sniffling. “Tell anybody about this and I’ll have to kill you.” The Jack is getting to me. We sink down onto the couch and I let my head fall into her delicious lap. I can taste her sweet lips and clit that I’ve so often feasted upon. Now I’ve lost it. What the hell am I going to do with myself?

  “So, Peg, what’s it like to meet Johnson Blunt? Is he really that disgustingly crude when he’s not in front of a camera?”

  O-M-G. Has she seen that internet upload? Me dry humping him.

  “Believe me, he’s not prejudiced. He’s just as much an asshole to his staff as he is to everyone.”

  “Well, he seems to have singled out women.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “He’s going to have a tough time getting elected if he keeps alienating half the voting public.”

  “Hey, you two. Check this out.” Janice comes out, this time fully clothed. Sandals, full length cotton skirt, tie-dyed tank. Like she’s late for a peace rally. She comes up behind us and thrusts her phone in Lizzi’s face. They both burst out laughing. I sit up. Janice tilts the phone toward me.

  Shit.

  “That is fucking hilarious,” Lizzi says. “Are you getting off on him, dear?”

  “Peg, you’re the next poster girl of every woman’s group in country.”

  “That got me fired. I’m surprised Blunt’s people haven’t had it removed from the net by now. There was an attempt on him at the last rally. I saved his ass. What you see is the tail end of it. I just want to forget all about it.”

  “The hell you will. You saved a top candidate’s life. You’re a hero, dear. I’m surprised the media isn’t busting down the door.”

  “They probably are at my apartment. Which is maybe where I ought to be. I think I’ll go crash for a million years.”

  I get up, not too tipsy, say goodbye to Liz, tell Janice to take good care of my baby cos I want her back some day, and head out.

  Chapter 3

  The Jack is loosing its anesthetic appeal. The pain of abandonment is punching back.

  I get back to my place. Third floor of a rundown brick apartment building near Franklin and Stevens. Sketchy neighborhood low rent. The first punk who tried to rob me ended up eating his meals through a straw for the next month. No problems since.

  I kick off my shoes, thinking a nice hot bath and some quality time with my favorite dildo would do me no wrong when there’s a knock at the door.

  Who the hell?

  “Holy shit, sir.”

  “Invite me in, Peg, thank you,” Johnson Blunt barges in not waiting for my words to catch up. I look out into the hallway. Empty except for a couple errant cockroaches. Shut the door.

  “Are you alone? After what happened today?”

  “Mike’s in the Navigator.”

  I peak through the curtains. A black SUV is parked across the street. No sign of the media.

  “Can I get you anything?” Walking into my kitchenette. “How ‘bout a beer?” I grab two IPAs out of the fridge, pop ‘em and strut back out to where he’s standing solid as Mt. Rushmore. Seeing him after what happened today gets me feeling a bit raunchy. A smirk snakes across my lips.

  “Your dismissal was not my choice.”

  “Well, today seems to have been full of surprise dismissals. My girlfriend just dumped me,” handing him a bottle. I take a swig from mine. “What brings you to Minneapolis? Certainly not just to Fuck,” walking over to the couch and falling into it.

  “I like your way with words,” laughing, he takes a drink of beer, comes over and sits beside me. “I’m campaigning in Wisconsin tomorrow. Heavy liberal state. Could be trouble. The media has painted me as insensitive to women.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “I need your help, Peg.”

  “I’m a bodyguard not a shrink or a PR guy.”

  “That’s not what I had in mind. This morning, when you were grinding away on top of me, something struck a nerve. Triggered a long buried memory. Seems I’d forgotten how strong women can be. And I think that’s the image that can carry this country through these times of terror. A strong resilient woman. The memory that flashed into my mind this morning was of when I was a young boy on the family farm in Oklahoma. I was helping my mother weed the garden, far from the house or any other shelter. It was windy and threatening rain but we had just a little more to do before we were finished. Suddenly a deafening noise like that of a railroad locomotive blasted our ears.
I looked up to see a funnel cloud had touched down about a quarter of a mile away. All the sky and air around us instantly turned black from all the dirt it was kicking up. Acting on instinct, my mother rushed me to a nearby drainage ditch, practically threw me into its shallow muddy bottom and she herself fell on top of me, protecting me. It was all over in a matter of minutes. When I tried to get up, mom wouldn’t move. The wind had driven a single piece of straw straight through her brain, entering through her ear canal. She had died instantly. I felt responsible for it. I believe my insensitivity toward women is an unconscious defense mechanism to shelter myself from the guilt. Long story short, to get over this, Peg, what I really need is a good dose of punishment.”

  “So that’s what this is about. You want to hire me to be your Dom,” smiling devilishly.

  “Strictly under the radar.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’m calling it Red Ops. Can you handle the job?”

  “Will you sit tight for just one minute. Be right back. I think I can help you out.”

  I drain the rest of my beer and then disappear into my bedroom. In a flash I kick open the door banging it against the wall. I’m standing Terminator tough packing a veiny eight-inch cock strapped on over my raw cunt. That’s all I got on.

  “I’m back, bitch,” doing a better Arnold than Arnold himself. My oiled six pack, muscular tits and biceps shoot off glints from the dim ceiling light.

  Blunt’s face reads like something frozen that’s been put in a microwave, going through a series of contortions illustrating a battle between pain and pleasure.

  “Get on your fucking knees, maggot,” strutting into the living room, cock in hand. “I may work for you but who’s the boss?” Pistol whipping his face with my dick.

  “You’re the boss, Peg.”

  “That’s Agent Masters to you, scum sucker. Got it?”

  “Yes, Agent Masters.”

  “Now that we got that clear, Candidate Blunt, I’m going to give you a little lesson in humility. I want you to start by sucking my cock.”

  I reach over the top of his head and grab a fist full of his short hair pulling him forward as I thrust into his mouth. He gags as I go slow and deep.