Drunken Poet's Dream

In a pub just south of Lincoln City, Ms. Ophir humiliates President Grant II in a drinking contest. From Ms. Ophir's boobs, still under a thousandth his normal size, Elias Bek watches.

Elias gapes up, as his domina downs dozens of boilermakers. He still can't believe she's not getting drunk...

At long last, Grant II drinks one round too many, and falls over. He'll be out for a while...

Here, Ms. Ophir seizes the opportunity. She pulls Elias from her boobs, and dunks him in her current boilermaker. As she squeezes him and keeps him submerged, he drinks the sacred beer and whiskey of the NAU homeland. He knows he can't tolerate liquor like his domina can...

Nearby, a press camera tries to close on, on what Ms. Ophir's submerging in her beer... She notices him, clenches her fist, and shatters the camera's lens with a single punch.

The cameraman surveys his now-totaled camera, and chuckles. "You could've just waved your hand, if you didn't want me to record you."

"Waving is for cheerleaders with hollow skulls," Ms. Ophir sneers. "I'm a fucking amazon."

Soon, Grant II and Ms. Ophir are singing karaoke duets. And Elias is back between his domina's boobs.

Elias is feeling the envy, now. His domina couldn't be playing her part in the cuckhold fantasy better...and neither could Grant II...

As the song ends, the crowd hollers, cheering. On stage, Grant II and Ms. Ophir bow excessively. At least Elias won't fall out of his domina's low-cut. Her boobs are squeezed too tightly together...

After this, Grant II and Ms. Ophir sing one last duet together. This one's a bit more romantic than the others.

On the dance floor, some people even dance to it. It's hard for a lot of rural folk to disrespect Ray Wylie Hubbard's "Drunken Poet's Dream..."

Within Ms. Ophir's low-cut, Elias's boobs swell. On the downside, Elias starts to run out of room to move or breathe. On the upside, his cuckold fantasy is that much more enriched. Especially when Grant II touches her bare shoulder, with his presidential hand...

It's quite the classical moment...for Elias. For the bar crowd, they're just relieved that their president, and Afroasia's, are just ordinary humans, and not gods, as a lot of Grant II's conservative voters would rather believe...

When it ends, Ms. Ophir tells Grant II she needs to use the ladies' room. She does...

She lowers her panties, and sits on the pot. She pulls Elias out of her low-cut, and leaves him on the nail of her index finger. To him, it's like a tennis court. In moments like these, he feels SO out of the Afroasian president's league...

"How am I doing, Elias?" She flaps her hair. "Could I do better? Am I doing too well?"

"It's perfect," he tells her, "really. I just wish this could go on for longer."

"Yeah, me too. Grant II's so manly, and this is fun." She stops, and thinks. "I think I might know of a way we can prolong this."

"You're in command, my domina. Wherever you go, I will freeload."

"Of course," she acknowledges. "I wouldn't consider you my whore if you weren't such a bad boy."

"My Turkish-German homies didn't think I was... But I am SO glad that you do, Frau President."

"It's FRAULEIN President." Someone hammers on the ladies' room door. She grins, and stuffs him back into her boobs. "Time to get more physical," she whispers, as she wipes her own ass.

Back in the pub, Ms. Ophir's reunited with Grant II. He offers to take her to Camp Ibrahim...

"Show me your place," Ms. Ophir hiccups/whispers, seductively. "I'm sure it's grand."

Grant II hiccups. "You've no idea," he blinks his bloodshot eyes, "Madame President."

Grant II's staring down her blouse. He's staring right at where Elias is, stuffed between her hooters...and yet, for the most part, Grant II doesn't see him...