Bipartisanship at Its Finest

I'm just the type of man that every conservative hates. I am atheist, almost anti-theist some days. I am a graduate of UC Berkeley, where I took part in my fair share of protests and civil disobedience. I vote Democrat, but only because they are the less insane of the two parties (if the Green Party had any chance of winning, I'd vote for them.) And I live in Colorado, a swing state in every single election, meaning that my vote could potentially decide the next president of the United States.

I also am engaged to a God-fearing, gun owning, Fox News commentator, whose politics are as red as her nail polish.

How many of you just spit out your drink? Be honest. I will say that just two years ago, I could never have imagined this either. Usually, pro-choice rallies aren't the best place to find a conservative wife.

Here's how it went down.

****

I, and about 200 other activists, were assembling in Lakewood Park, Denver, to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade. We had the usual signs up, such as "Let a woman choose" etc. We also had a guest speaker, a woman from Yemen who almost died trying to get an illegal abortion, before she escaped to America. It sickened me that the GOP wanted to turn America more and more into a third world country.

I was wiping away tears, listening to Fatima al-Hassan's powerful speech, when suddenly her mike went silent. She continued talking for about two seconds before she realized what had happened. The mechanics quickly checked the microphone, the wiring, and it was another half a second until one of them shouted "the wire's been cut!" Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a female figure holding a pair of wire cutters, running into a nearby alley.

Without wasting a single second, I dropped the sign I was holding and gave chase. She was pretty fast, but I managed to keep her in my sight. Her major mistake was not wearing the right shoes for the job. She had on a gorgeous pair of t-bar sandals, better suited for a date than for running from an angry thirty year old male in good physical shape. Those leather soles gave her no traction when she accidentally stepped on the smear of what once was an apple. She ended up on her ass, the wire-cutters flying out of her reach, with me quickly closing any gap that remained between us.

I quickly sized her up. On a scale of one to ten, she was at least an 8.5. Her honey blonde, shoulder length hair gave her face a look of innocence, as did her light blue eyes and her freckles. Her chest and the ass she had landed on were both just the right size in comparison to her 5'3 frame. The cross necklace on her chest caught my eye next, as did the purity ring on her finger. She looked as if she could be a newscaster for Fox news.

And then it struck me. She WAS a newscaster for Fox. Her name was Grace-Ann Sherwood, and she was the local Fox correspondent for the Denver area. I remember hearing her once on the radio, talking about "family values" and "the decline of American youth." Her sweet voice, with a slight bit of a country accent, was in direct contrast to her horrible politics.

"Like what you see, you baby killer?"

I was momentarily caught aback. It took me five seconds to remember why she was lying on the ground in some alley in Denver in front of me, and another five seconds for me to remember that I was pissed at her for ruining our rally.

"That's a fucking classic Republican trick you pulled there, bitch. If you don't like what somebody says, then silence them."

"You don't have the right to kill children, you sick freak."

"And you don't have the right to damage somebody else's property. I'll see how Rupert Murdoch reacts when he finds out one of his talking heads is going to jail for vandalism."

It became she didn't think the consequences of her actions through. She immediately shut up after I mentioned jail, and although she tried hard to fight it, tears began welling up in her big blue eyes. I almost felt sorry for her. But not really.

"Yup, imagine a sweet little Christian girl, fighting for law and order, gets arrested for vandalism. Imagine being made fun of endlessly on the mainstream media you hate so much. Imagine spending time in the same prison you want marijuana smokers to be sent to. Imagine..."

"Shut up!" She tried to get to her feet and run away, but I was too quick for her. She remained on the ground, helpless.

"Let me go, you ugly chink!" Did I mention that I'm Asian American? Because I am, making me the exact opposite of a WASP.

"Hey, that's an ugly word. Jesus would disapprove, little bitch. He people of all races."

"When I call my lawyer, your life will be ruined!"

It was at this moment where I realized that I had some zip ties left over from when I was helping set up for the rally. Quickly reaching into my pocket, I grabbed one out. Using my other hand, I forced both of Grace-Ann's arms behind her back. Before she could remove them from position, I heard the sweet click of the zip tie locking in place.

"OH. MY. GOD! YOU SICK BASTARD!"

"Hey, don't blasphemize the name of the Lord. Right?"

Even as I was still chuckling over that joke, I realized that my little fox (get it?) was still screaming her head off. Somebody would probably come soon, and if they did, I'd end up in far more trouble than she would. So to shut her up, I reached under her (expensive) blouse, and using all my strength, ripped her bra straight off her body. While her mouth opened in shock, I quickly stuffed them in, muffling her continued screams.

It was time to get the hell out of here. Calling the cops on Grace-Ann was no longer an option, after what I'd done. I was screwed. I might as well enjoy some nice hatesex before I faced the consequences. But where should I take her?

It was only then I had the sense of mind to look around me. To my left, I saw a parking lot. It looked pretty familiar for some reason. To the front, there was a McDonalds with a broken window. Funny. There was a McDonalds with a cracked window in front of my apartment too. And to my right I saw...

My Apartment Building

****

Grace-Ann didn't go down without a fight. All the way up the two flights of stairs to my apartment, she grunted and kicked as I dragged her along. I was afraid that one of my neighbors would open their doors and see us. But luck prevailed, and I got her past my threshold before slamming the door shut, and pulling all the curtains down.

I then addressed my pretty captive. "Listen up, you Bible humping whorebag, I've got you now. And I'm going to take advantage of you. You fucking ruined an emotional rally. You interfered with our right to free speech and assembly. Just so you could please your imaginary friend up in the sky. Now you'll pay with your body."

This elicited a frantic headshake, and a muffled, but still very loud, "NO!" from Gracie. Which only aroused me more.

I took a knife from my kitchen and put it to her throat.

"You can commit a sin by having premarital sex, or you can go straight to Heaven all clean and pure right this moment. Your choice."

She froze still. Guess she didn't feel like being a martyr.

Without further ado, I quickly cut off the rest of her clothes. Her blouse was torn to shreds, her jeans not faring much better. I then ripped her panties straight off her pussy. I left her shoes for last. I've got a pretty big foot fetish, and seeing her size seven feet, with her toes painted deep red, with a white cross on each big toe, really got the blood flowing to my crotch.

One look at her hymen, plus her purity ring, told me that she had never been with a man before. And from the way she was thrashing around on my floor, screaming into her gag, she wasn't looking forward to her first time. Too bad. She shouldn't have interrupted our protest.

I didn't just unzip my pants. I ripped them straight off. And then I lay on to of her, pinning her to the ground, as I began thrusting.

I thought I had been fighting hard while I dragged her up my steps. That was nothing compared to the way she was fighting now. Tears were rolling down her eyes, and she tried to repeatedly head-butt me, before I pinned her head to the ground as well. Her body was trashing like a caught fish, and I was afraid she would actually damage my cock with the intensity she was struggling. But the pleasure of popping a prude Republican cherry kept me going.

A few minutes later, I was reaching my climax. And then it struck me. A prude like Grace-Ann probably wouldn't be using birth control. And I didn't have a condom on.

I thought about pulling out, but I was already losing control. The pleasure was just too great. I felt gobs of my semen flow into Grace-Ann's virgin pussy. I was drained. And as soon as the high subsided, the enormity of the situation hit me.

I had a pretty well-known celebrity tied up, had raped her, and to just heap on misfortune for both of us, she might very well get pregnant. And knowing her views on abortion...

I fell onto my sofa and passed out.

****

I woke up to the sound of the door knocking. There I was, with my pants off, and a kidnapped girl on my floor. I quickly put on my pants, and shoved a hysterical Grace-Ann into my bedroom closet, before running to get the door.

It was the dude from the apartment directly below mine. He and I weren't the worst of enemies, but whenever something I did bothered him, he was quick to bring it up.

"Excuse me, but what was that thumping sound I heard from your apartment. There was also some squealing sounds too..."

I though fast. "Oh, I was working out."

"In a shirt and tie?"

Goddamn it. "Well, now I've got to go do something for my boss, but I almost lost track of the time, so I just dressed."

"I thought were a freelance writer and had no boss."

This guy was definitely not stupid. "I've got an assignment for the Denver Post, so now I call the editor boss."

He stared at me for a good 15 seconds, before cautiously saying, "Well, good luck then. And try to get a gym membership so you don't disrupt your neighbors as much."

Damn. That was close.

I wished him a good evening, and then shut the door in his face.

I then turned my attention to Grace-Ann. I pulled her out of her closet, and looked her straight in the face. Her makeup was smeared, and ran all over, as if she had been crying ink. I thought that made her look even cuter. But also a bit creepy. Not nearly as creepy as the death glare of pure, unbridled, all-consuming hate she gave me.

Her body was in a bad shape also. I could see a bruise where she fell while running from me. I could also see tons of rug-burn from her struggling. My semen was dripping out of her vagina. And her wrists were bleeding from rubbing against the zip tie.

I thought of ending her misery right then and there. But I realized that modern forensic science would catch me eventually. And Colorado still had the death penalty on the books. And besides, looking deep into her tear filled eyes, I realized that as much as I disagreed with her politics, as much as I hated her vision of America, she was still a human being who was somebody's daughter, sister, and best friend.

So I would need to fix her up. Every single bruise or scar I could get to heal before the cops examined her would be one less month or year in jail for me. And as for her possible pregnancy, I'd go and get some Plan B as soon as possible, and if she refused to take it on religious grounds, I'd sneak it into her water or something.

I looked her straight in the eye. I tried to look as friendly and... well... not like a rapist as I could. "Lets' go take a shower."

No objection from her.

****

I made sure the water was running full blast, and the shower door was completely closed, before removing her bra from her mouth.

"I hate you." She growled.

"I hate myself too," I replied. "but let's just focus on getting you cleaned up.

I rubbed soap all over her body, since her hands were still bound. Occasionally, she would scream when I touched a bruise or scar, and I'd apologize and continue scrubbing elsewhere. When I got to her breasts, I couldn't help but caress them for a second before she bit my arm. Hard. I quickly got the message.

I got to her wrists, which were still zip tied. I told her, "Remember that all your clothes are cut to shreds. If I remove this zip tie, and you try to attack me, you'll have to run away naked. Meanwhile, If I let your hands free, and you don't try to hurt me, I'll go and get you some clothes, and you can leave her with some dignity intact.

She was silent for a whole minute. Then she muttered, under her breath, almost inaudibly, "okay."

I reached for a pair of scissors on the sink next to the shower, and cut her ziptie. As promised, she didn't try to strangle me or punch my face in. She simply covered up her bare breasts.

Eventually, I got her cleaned up to the best of my abilities. As we stepped out of the shower, I decided to tie her hands together with a towel, just in case she decided to lunge for the phone. I didn't want to leave her alone in my apartment while I went out and bought her clothes, and Plan B. But I also couldn't exactly drive her around naked. She might also try to flag down some cops if we passed them on the road. In the end, I left her in the bathroom, with her hands tied, and her mouth duct taped, and barricaded the door from the outside using some furniture.

I first went to Wal-Mart, where I bought some bras and panties, and a neat but affordable dress. I then headed to Walgreens and found Plan B on the shelves. Both times, the cashier looked at me weird, and I brushed them off by saying that it was for my girlfriend.

When I got back, Grace-Ann had been surprisingly docile. She wasn't pounding on the door or anything, just lying on the floor, sobbing lightly. She still looked gorgeous without any makeup. I untied and ungagged her, and gave her the underwear and dress and watched her put them on.

She looked at herself in the mirror. And then we awkwardly stood there for a few seconds. And then, even more awkwardly, she asked "How do I look?"

"You look fantastic."

More awkward silence for a minute. Then "thank you."

Next, I asked her if she wanted something to drink. She said that some coffee would be nice. I didn't have coffee ready on the spot, so we sat and waited while I made coffee using my Keurig coffee machine. I slipped the Plan B pill that I had bought into the coffee before serving it to her.

Before I even set the mug down in front of her, she asked "did you put birth control in it?"

Caught in the moment, I thought about lying, but "yes" somehow slipped through.

She looked down at the table. A few sobs. Then, "forgive me, Lord," before taking a sip from her coffee.

I made myself a mug of coffee as well, and sat down next to her. I was half expecting her to splash hot coffee all over my face.

Instead, she simply looked at me. Cue to me making some small talk. If I could get her to think that I'm not such as horrible guy, maybe she wouldn't press charges. Maybe she'd even forgive me eventually. And besides, she was smoking hot.

"So Grace-Ann..."

"How do you know my name?"

"You're the correspondent for Fox News in Denver, right?"

"Yes. But I wouldn't expect someone of your beliefs to watch my show."

"Sometimes, if I want to check out the prettiest woman I've ever seen, I'll turn to your channel, and just turn the volume all the way down."

She chuckled. Maybe I had a chance of not going to jail. I needed to seize the moment.

"But I must say, you're even more gorgeous in person, even without makeup."

Her chuckle turned into a full on smile.

"So, Casanova, tell me your name."

"Peter Kim. I'm a freelance writer."

"What do you write about?"

"Well, I sometimes write for Daily Kos, or Vox. You know, bashing everything you believe in. But I must say, I've proved myself quite the hypocrite, writing about women's rights this, feminism that, but when the opportunity came, I raped you without a second thought."

I see a few tears rolling down her cheek... and feel a few tears running down mine.

She says, "I'm sorry for cutting the microphone at your protest. It was rude, and a disgusting way for me to act. It's just that I felt so strongly about the right to life, that I let my temper get the better of me."

"That's nothing compared to violating an unwilling woman. I'm sorry. I hope you don't file charges, but I understand if you do..."

"I won't. But just know that you hurt me. You took my virginity in such a horrible way. I'd love it if you could do two things for me."

"Absolutely."

"First, come with me to church this Sunday."

I frown. I'm a devoted atheist, and despite my desire to make things right, I simply refuse to follow a religion which science has disproven time and time again, ever since Copernicus first declared the Earth revolved around the Sun. I can't accept the idea that a loving god would allow famine and warfare in Sub-Saharan Africa, the atrocities in North Korea, or AIDS right here in America. I sigh. I expect her to be upset, but she just gives me a small smile.

"Ok. That step will come eventually. And you don't have to convert. Just come with me inside the Church building, and listen to what Christians have to say about themselves. But for now, what do you think of going hunting with me tomorrow instead?"

I've never been hunting before. However, I have no real opposition to it, as long as the animals are harvested legally, responsibly, and are not endangered, and the guns are securely locked out of the reach of children afterwards.

"Sure. As long as you don't pull a Dick Cheney."

We both share a laugh at my joke.

"What's the second thing?"

"I want you to tie me up and have sex with me again."

I do a double take. Then a triple take. My jaw drops to the floor.

"Isn't...tha...that...a...si...sin?"

"I guess so. But you've already taken my virginity. And obviously you find me attractive. When you think of having sex with me, I'd like it if you thought of taking me consensually, rather than reminiscing about raping me."

"Sure. But why tie you up?"

She blushes bright red. Her expression changes to that of a sheepish grin. She truly looks like an innocent church girl now.

"Because it was exciting."

Fair enough. We finish our coffee, and I make sure to put on a condom before things get steamy again. Then I pull out a length of rope I kept in a closet somewhere for some forgotten reason, and led Grace-Ann into the bedroom. Then, I began trussing up my new... girlfriend?

I suck at tying her up. Meanwhile, she's got experience in setting up tents, sailing boats, fishing, etc. She ends up giving me instructions on how to tie the rightest knots. Eventually, with her help, I get Gracie into a very suggestive frog tie position.

I then flip her on her face so that her ass is point in the air. She immediately protests:

"What the heck! I didn't say you could do that!"

"No, you didn't. That's why I'm asking permission now."

"Absolutely not. That is sodomy."

"We're already having premarital sex. And isn't it a sin for a Christian to be in a relationship with a nonbeliever? Please, Grace, this would make me so happy. I love you, darling. Please."

She frowns. And sighs. And finally says "Forgive me Lord!"

I take that as a yes.

The resulting orgasm a few minutes later is the best I've ever had. I black out for a few seconds, with my penis in her ass, not fully understanding the incredibility of the situation, which was that I managed to get a religiously conservative, prude Fox News host to agree to anal sex.

I finally pull out, and fell my cum in my condom. I rip the condom off. I pull Grace-Ann's purity ring off her finger, throw it in my used condom, and then toss the whole package in the trash.