Katy & The Donald (part 2) (by The Outernet)

(For Part One, click here)
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"You remember Katy don't you, Ivanka? Ticklish little Katy?" he took his stubby thumb and forefinger and pinched Katy's waist, making her flinch and roll her eyes in embarrassment.

Ivanka gave a cool nod of her head. "Nice to meet you. We'll have to go shopping sometime, get to know who my father is dating these days." Ivanka winked and smiled.

"Why don't you do it now, my little lovelies? I have some meetings with some very big people, very big. Fantastic people, you wouldn't believe it."

An aide walked in. "Mr. President, Rinat Akshetan has just arrived."

"See what I mean? Have fun, girls!"

Thunderstruck, Katy opened her mouth to speak, but Ivanka grabbed her by the arm.

"Come on girlfriend! Shopping time!"

**************************************************

"Do you like this?" Katy held up a slinky little grey dress for Ivanka's consideration.

"Oh cuuute!"

"It is cute. I'm going to try it on."

"I'll come help you zip up the back."

"No that's ok I...."

"Don't be silly!"

As soon as they were in the changing room, Ivanka spun Katy around, pushed her into the corner and pressed her lips against Katy's. "Oh my god, you're so pretty." Ivanka moaned as she kissed. Katy kissed back, and their arms intertwined, reveling in the softness of each other's skin. That is until Ivanka started nuzzling Katy's neck, her hands blindly trying to unbutton the reporter's blouse, nails grazing her bare tummy. Katy giggled.

"Oh my god, you are ticklish. My father wasn't lying!" Ivanka gave Katy's bare tummy a quick spidering, causing Katy to eep.

"Shhh! You're going to get us caught." Ivanka warned.

Katy and the first daughter kissed in the changing room while outside the door, two secret service agents in sunglasses stood staring straight ahead, expressionless. Every once in a while a giggle or a squeal would emerge.

Inside and wrapped in a lip lock, Katy managed to whisper "What about your husband? What about Jared?"

"Oh God, Jared's such a wimp and a bore. I never should have married him. It's complicated."

Ivanka reached into her purse, pulled out a little bottle. "Look what I got from one of my father's friends! You can't get this brand anywhere, you have to go out of the country to get it!" Katy looked at the bottle.

"Vodka?"

**************************************************

Ivanka and Katy held hands as they walked under the moonlight on the south lawn of the White House.

"Won't someone see us?"

"It's fine. We can do whatever we want here." Ivanka's voice was soft and sing-songy. "Hi, Daddy!"

Katy looked up to see the President presiding over them on the Truman Balcony, beaming with affection.

"That's what I like to see, girls" he called out " Two of my favorite, sexiest women...."

"Daddy!"

"...getting along like sisters. Good night, my darlings." At that he blew them a kiss, grinned and ambled back inside, leaving them with the distant sound of a single-blast fart, like a bullfrog croaking in the distance.

Ivanka turned to Katy, eyes full of pity "Daddy does that a lot, sorry...."

"Yeah, I noticed..."

"Hey! Let's go see what Hope is doing!" She whispered conspiratorially..."Hope is sooooo ticklish. Almost as ticklish as you!" Katy couldn't believe it but she felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Oh, so you've tickled her too?" she asked.

Ivanka looked up surprised and confused but that switched to understanding and empathy.

"No, silly." She leaned in and kissed Katy's soft lips. "No, Hope gets tickled all the time by Corey and Rob! You should see it, it's hilarious. Not to mention very hot."

As they walked in to the press office, Hope was burning the midnight oil, furiously typing and scrutinizing what she was laboring over.

"Hope! We've come to rescue you from work!" Ivanka merrily announced as they entered. "Don't you ever rest?"

Hope shyly looked up. "Oh, hi. Your father keeps me so busy, I hope it's ok I'm still here."

"Of course it is, silly! I just wanted you to meet somebody. Hope, this is Katy! Katy.....Hope!"

Hope stood up and extended her hand. "Oh, I've been looking forward to meeting you! I'm a big fan of your work." Hope gave a quick wink.

Katy found the compliment unexpected...and the wink even moreso. But before she could process it, the voice of Kellyanne Conway sounded from the back of the room.

"Well, well, well.....what do we have here? Three East Coast Democrats!"

Hope immediately stiffened. Ivanka seemed less perturbed.

"Oh come on now Kelly Anne....we're all on Team Trump here, you know that." Ivanka said grandly.

Kelly Anne wiggled her fingers at Ivanka. "Well, there's one way for me to find out!"

"You wouldn't dare."

Kelly-Anne laughed and turned to Katy. "There's only one person who gets to tickle the Princess. And it ain't Jared!"

At this, Kelly-Anne and Ivanka stood on either side of Hope, smiled at each other conspiratorially.... and started poking her sides. Hope, trying to work, squirmed in her chair at every poke.

"Look at this, its Pavlovian!" Ivanka exclaimed. "You should do a story on this!"

**************************************************

Hope offered Katy a ride back to the hotel and in her car she opened up.

"You have to understand, Katy, everyone here tickles me. And they're going to tickle you, too. That's why you're here."

"I don't understand."

Hope continued. "The two you have to watch out for is Kelly Anne, and Omarosa. They give the loyalty tests."

"The loyalty tests?"

"They both have nails and they don't fool around, they zero right in on your worst spots. It's like they know where they are already and they have no mercy. It's not like getting tickled by a guy, where you can sometimes sweet talk your way out of it. If these two find a spot....God help you. I'm just saying."

"I don't understand, loyalty tests?"

"You'll see. We all had to pass to join the administration. Hopefully you won't have to get both of them at the same time, like I did. Sometimes they just sic one of them on you. It just happens, it's very random.....I hear sometimes they let you choose who gets to tickle you, but that's not what happened with me"

Katy shuddered. "Ok, well....if you had to choose one or the other, who goes easier?" Hope thought for a minute.

"They're all business. Both of them are almost methodical in the way they get you." Then she added: "Kelly Anne, she can sometimes pet your head and give you a quick break. There's something motherly about her, or like a big sister. She kinda talks you through it, sometimes. I guess Kelly Anne."

"And Omarosa?"

"Omarosa, she just doesn't care, she will find a spot and drive you crazy and she will not stop tickling that spot unless she decides to go find another. But really....you're going to be laughing for a long, long time if either of those two get their hands on you. My advice is to steer clear and if you can't do that, then just don't make waves."

Katy shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Remembering how ticklish Ivanka's long-nails felt playing with her navel, she realized she had this irrational desire to find out what it was like to actually be tickled by these other women.

"And what about Ivanka?"

Hope turned to Katy and said, "I love Ivanka. I love her. Please don't write anything bad about Ivanka. She brought me here, I'd do anything for her."

*********************************************

When they pulled up to the hotel, they were surprised to see Ivanka herself standing outside, waiting for them.

"C'mon girlfriends! Slumber party!"

Suddenly Katy felt like she was in college again, she felt at ease with these two beautiful women. Ivanka was like the pied piper of fun; money was no object, in fact it didn't seem like anything was an object!

Once they got in, the three young women finished off the vodka, gossiped about various men in the White House, and played strip-Trivial Pursuit, 80's edition. It turned out none of three knew as much about the 80's as they thought they would, and just as the game started to become tedious, Ivanka broke the boredom with a battle cry.

"Pillow fight!"

Kneeling on the bed in their bras and panties, Hope and Ivanka started smashing breakaway pillows against Katy's arms, hundreds of soft, fluffy feathers raining down over them while they all squealed and giggled. Before she knew it, Katy was brandishing her own pillow and the three hotties were engaged in a full-on pillow bashing free-for-all. Within seconds there were so many feathers in the air, the girls could barely see when, suddenly, as if entering from a fog, the President appeared, his jacket off, the top buttons of his white shirt undone, and with a wicked grin on his orange face.

"Hi gurrrrls."

He leaned in, grabbed Hope around her bare waist with one hand, Katy around her bare waist with his other, brought them close to his doughy body....and squeezed. An explosion of high, desperate girlish giggles and titters bounced off the walls as his stubby fingers pressed and probed their sides. Both girls urgently put their hands over his to try and get him to stop but to no avail, he had his fingers in their sides like they were bowling balls. At one point they were so twisted to their sides that both were practically airborne, only their ankles dragging along the mattress. Trump felt like a mighty beast with his prey and did everything he could to make it tickle as much as possible. Finally, satisfied they had thrashed and kicked and squealed out enough "oh stop!"s, he relented and both girls immediately went limp in his hands, resting on his girth, panting. The President just grinned and took the moment in, pleased with his work.

As the last of the feathers fell around them, Ivanka casually strode around the bed, picking up.

"You look lovely, tonight, Ivanka"

"Thank you, Daddy." She surveyed the pillow feathers that were now all over the bed and the floor. "Oof! What a mess! We better get somebody up here to clean it all up!" She clapped her hands twice and suddenly a much older woman from an indiscernible foreign country appeared in a simple powder blue dress and her hair wrapped in a black kerchief.

"All this." Ivanka commanded, pointing all around the room. "Make clean. Now!"

The woman bowed and nodded, and immediately went to work.

Later, when Katy was leaving, she was able to grab the woman by the arm. "Hi, my name is Katy. Do you speak English? Ingles?"

The old woman's eyes grew wide with fear..."No, no.....no can talk......no can talk....please....."

"It's ok, I'm a reporter."

But all the woman did was to back down the hall as if she had been confronted by a monster. "Please! No can talk. Mr. Trump good to me. I swear! Mr. Trump good to me!"

**************
Sure enough, that night, Trump popped the question, not knowing Katy was aware of his intent. The moonlight bathed the bedroom as he wrapped his arms around his journalist mistress and held her close.

"I have a hypothetical for you." he spoke into her ear. This tickled her and she wrinkled her nose, smiling.

"Ok, ok , that tickles, not so close!" she giggled. "What's the hypothetical?"

"Who would you like tickling you better.....Kelly Anne? Or Omarosa?"

Katy thought about it, remembering what Hope said, but also tried to answer honestly.

"I think Kelly Anne."

"Really?" The president seemed surprised.

"It's hard to say. On one hand, Omarosa seems like she'd be really sexy at it. But .... getting tickled by an older woman....I don't know....there's just something extra hot about it, I can't explain."

The President's hands started moving down her body. "Well, how about getting tickled by an older man?"

Katy smiled and started guiding her hands over his. She knew what was about to happen.

"A much older man", he sighed as he kissed her shoulder and the finger wiggling began.

"Oh, Donald don't!"

*****************

But it turned out not to be neither Kellyanne or Omarosa.

Upon arriving one day at Trump Tower, a female aide she had never seen before intercepted her.

"Where's Donald?" Katy asked.

"Where's the President", the aide corrected. "The President is indisposed right now, Katy."

Katy was puzzled. She had just gotten off the phone with him an hour earlier.

"Is he ok?" she asked.

"The President is fine. He wants you to come with me. We understand that the President has granted you full access, and that you have, shall we say, a special relationship with him. But we have to make sure - he has to make sure - that you're dependable and reliable...."

Katy chuckled. "You mean, loyal? Is that the word you're looking for? Loyalty? The President wants loyalty?"

The aide pursed her lips and simply replied: "Come with me, please."

As they briskly walked through never-ending winding halls, Katy prepared herself. So this was it. This was the loyalty test. Her body started to tingle in anticipation, but her mind was thinking like a reporter. It didn't get more "inside" or "undercover" than this. As they kept walking and walking, she had to concentrate to keep her breathing and heart rate normal. Her whole upperbody was already electric and the more she anticipated what might happen to her, the more she felt like turning around and running away.

But she didn't. She was determined to go through with whatever they had planned so that she could know what the hell they were doing in this administration. Donald has been tickling me for months now, she thought to herself. If ever she had training for something, this was it. This new sense of resolve served her well when they finally got to their destination: a medium sized office with what looked like a sort of examination or massage table in the middle.

"Please turn your attention to the monitor on your right."

Katy looked to her right at the screen as the aide tried to open a file. This stalled the excitement for a bit as the aide kept sighing and trying to figure out why she couldn't get the computer to work properly. She called some kind of tech support and continued clicking and typing to make something happen. Finally, the aide sounded a mildly triumphant "aha!" and a video clip opened up full screen, and there was Trump sitting at his desk, speaking directly to the camera.

"Katy....dear dear Katy.....I want you to know that I think the world of you, fake news aside, and I want you to take this little loyalty test for me. In my world, you can't be too careful. Things may seem a little weird at first, you may not understand it, you may have alot of questions but this is the way it's got to be. I'm so sorry, Katy. I know you weren't expecting this." Katy chuckled to herself. Trump continued on the monitor. "Do whatever they tell you, and it will all be over soon. I think very highly of you, Katy. Very highly. Good luck, darling. Make me proud."

The video clip ended, and Trump's face was left frozen in such an unflattering expression that Katy had to chuckle again.

"Do you understand what you just watched?"

Katy nodded.

"Do you have any questions?"

Katy shook her head.

"Please remove your shoes and lie down, please."

Katy took a deep breath, and slipped out of her heels. The aide helped her onto the table.

"Put your arms above your head, please."

Katy complied, but was shocked when the aide slipped restraints on her wrists.

"Hey! You're tying me up?" Donald had never used any kind of bondage before, other than with his own body and strength.

The aide was now at the foot of the table, binding her ankles. "It will all be over in a little while, remember what the President said."

Katy was flustered and speechless, but the aide walked back up and looked her in the eye.

"Listen, we all had to go through this, ok? It will all be over in a little while." Then she added: "The President asked me to do this for him." and she bent down and kissed Katy on the forehead, which actually helped calm her nerves. The aide looked down at Katy one last time and whispered, "You're going to do great."

At this the aide left the room and Katy was alone, lying flat on her back, and feeling very vulnerable. She was lying there so long she started to think maybe this itself was the loyalty test....how long she could endure being tied up in an empty room. However, after an interminable wait, she heard a door open and could sense someone enter. She was expecting to see Kellyanne or Omarosa. She WANTED to see Kellyanne or Omarosa. But it wasn't either woman. In fact, she could sense right away that it wasn't a woman at all, but a man.

"Donald?" she softly called out. But there was no response. She could sense someone above her, behind her.......but she couldn't think of who it was. At first she thought of the only two men in the administration she knew were ticklers. Hadn't Ivanka told her that Cory Lewandowski and Rob Portman tickled Hope? Was it going to be one of them?

It turned out to be the last person in the world she would expect to see. As the male figure started walking around the room, not paying her any attention, she caught a glimpse of who it was, and her blood ran cold. It was....was it really?......it was!....none other than Vladmir Putin himself. Behold!

A thousand thoughts flooded her mind, each vying for attention. But at the top of the list was this one: what a scoop! This is going to blow the lid off of everything! She even allowed herself a fleeting fantasy of winning the Pulitzer Prize. Ok, ok....calm down, Katy, she thought to herself. One step at a time. First, she had to see what Putin had in mind. Everyone has gone through this before, the aide had told her, so she didn't think she was about to be poisoned or vanished or anything too sinister. She didn't know what to think.

Putin walked past the table. As he rounded the bottom, he planted a sprinkle of tickles on the middle of her sole, and she gave away a gasp and a flinch.

Putin stopped moving, turned and looked at her directly for the first time. "You American women, you're always so.....how do you say.....make easy to laugh. By touching. What is word for such thing again?"

"Tickle."

He cocked his head and smirked. "Yes, of course. Tickle." The Russian president sat down next to her, and pulled out his phone. He spoke as he started punching the keypad, busily.

"I never thought of this....how do you say?...tickling? Tickling make me....turn on, yes? Turn on? I never thought of turn on from tickling beautiful women. But our people did very much research into the West, and America in particular, and we were surprised to find that tickling was very popular on this computer internets, yes? So we create a couple of companies to cater to this market. Here, I show you...." He brought up a website, a Russian tickling fetish website, and held the phone up to her face so she could see. The women were stunningly beautiful; some of them could have been runway models.

"After we made videos of this type, I began to watch some. It's very important to know what you're putting out. I watch and I become very interested in this....this phenomenon, yes? Every woman, she has her own.....errr.....unique response. I become fascinated to this response. I become fascinated with tickling video. Soon I enjoy tickling women myself, to help me relax, to give me fun, yes?" Putin leaned in close to her face and said, conspiratorially: "You know there's old saying, a man does not go to the feast just to eat one piece of meat, yes? I like to sample all the borsht and all the broths! You understand me, yes? "

Katy had an itch. "Yes, I understand."

"I knew you would. You will be great feather in our cap! Beautiful American journalist! Now, um....let me see here...." Putin reached under both her arms, and he pressed his fingerpads in. "A-coooochy-cooochy-cooooo, yes?" Putin taunted. Katy laughed.....his technique sucked. Our President is a much better tickler she thought to herself, a strange unexpected sense of national pride rising in her at this most odd of moments.

"I teeckle you! I teeckle you!" the Russian president hopped around from foot to foot. He was hitting spots, and it did tickle her, but not for any prolonged amount of time and her laughter came more from witnessing this odd sight.

"Ha ha, yes, you teeckle me, you teeckle me. " she coo'd. She eeked for a second when his fingers chanced to graze over a particularly ticklish spot on her sides before spidering up to her not-particularly sensitive elbow bones. "Oh yeah, that really tickles, Vladmir. Ha ha ha......har har har" She rolled her eyes, and became openly contemptuous the more his shitty tickling technique was revealed. Wasn't this guy supposed to be in the KGB or something?

"How do I look when I is teeckling you, hmmmm?"

Boldly, she shouted while laughing "I think you look like a DICKHEAD! That's what you have always looked like to me!" Suddenly the Russian president stopped and leaned down, inquisitively.

"Deekhead. I don't know meaning of that word. What is deekhead?"

Katy's eyes shifted from side to side. "Um, it means, strong leader, El Presidente."

Putin looked delighted. "Very good! Yes, I am deekhead! I am deekhead! And I teeckle you! I teeckle American journalist!"

This went for about a half hour. At one point, Katy actually yawned. At another point, he started pinching the skin on her thigh, making her say "Ow!" He apologized and started scratching her scalp, presumably trying to tickle her there. It was a pathetic, inept performance. Never once during the charade was she asked about loyalty, nor any other subject. Eventually Putin took his hands off her, abruptly stood up straight, his face turning serious. He unbuckled the straps, then briskly left the room. Katy sat up, completely bemused, got off the table, picked up her shoes and walked to the door, she just wanted to get the hell out of there.

**********
As soon as Katy left the room, a waiting, worried-looking aide clutching a clipboard rushed over. "The President wants to see you right now." With this brisk escort she was ushered to his chambers. When Katy entered, she could see her boyfriend, the President of the United States, was frantic.

"What did he do to you? What did he do to you?!!! Did he tickle you? He did, didn't he. I knew it! I can tell! He tickled you, didn't he?" Katy was caught off guard and more than a little amused to be the cause of all this anxiety.

"There's nothing to be jealous about. You tickle me much better. His tickling sucks."

The President stopped dead in his tracks, visibly relaxed, thought for a moment, then puffed with pride.

"I do tickle better don't I? It's all in the hands, Katy, you need good hands. See?" He held up his little hands to demonstrate. "I've got good hands."

"American hands, Mr. President." Katy replied with a wink, and puffing with national pride herself. Still barefoot, she tiptoed up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

Abruptly he turned solemn. "He didn't get you at all?"

"I didn't say that. He got me a few times."

"Where. When. How did he get you?"

Katy looked at him sideways. He was practically panting like a dog.

"I don't know, Donald, he got me! You know! Tickling!"

"I want details, Katy, c'mon, c'mon. This could be a matter of national security!"

She furrowed her brow, then replayed what she could remember in her head.

"I don't know, when he first came in, when he passed by, he reached out and tickled my foot."

"A foot man! I knew it! And how did it feel?"

"It tickled!"

"Did you laugh?"

"No, but he could tell."

"How could he tell?"

"I kind of gasped. Like this" She demonstrated her gasp.

"Ah, so he could tell. Girls like you, you can't hide it. You'd make a terrible spy, Katy." he chastised. "Ok, then what?"

"I don't know. He gave this big long speech about how he's into this, and how he got into it and everything......then he suddenly just sort of lunged at me and started tickling my body, all over"

Trump's eyes burned into hers. "Did it tickle?"

"At first, a little bit."

"Did he say anything?"

"Yeah, you know. Coochy coo. Stuff like that."

"Putin said coochy coo?!!!!!"

"Yeah, it was weird. Then he's sort of hopping from one foot to another, he looked like a frog."

"A frog!" Trump marveled, then laughed to himself. "And what about me, how do I look?"

"You? I can't get away from you, you're an octopus.....you're like a big orange bear!"

Satisfied, the President nodded. Then he broke into a big grin, strode over and patted her on her head. "Very good. You done good! Very, very good!" He kissed her on the cheek. "My Katy. Yes....very good! You might just get a medal for this one! You'll see! Very good, darling."

***************************
The President needed to take a phone call ("Sorry Katy, top secret!") and he encouraged her to take a walk around the hotel. "We have everything here, spas, bars, do whatever you want, treat yourself nice, you've earned it." He patted her fanny and Katy decided to walk off the last hour.

After a while, though, she realized she wanted to freshen up and was looking for a washroom. She thought she was entering a ladies room...but it turned out to be a very long dark hallway. She looked back on the front of the door and noticed a sign on it that she hadn't seen before. "Confidential Area" it said. The reporter in her kicked in and she decided to do a little snooping.

The doors were all closed, but as she past most of them, she could usually hear something muffled going on inside. About a quarter of the way down, just as she was passing one room, she heard a woman's moan. She stopped at the door, and a moment later she heard it again.

Katy took a deep breath, and nudged the door slightly ajar, and what she saw, she could barely fathom. There, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall was Sarah Huckabee Sanders, and she was having her toes nuzzled by Steve Bannon! Bannon looked like he was in ecstasy, gripping her ankles, slurping and slobbering all over her peds like a thirsty St. Bernard.

"Not my toes, Steve", she drawled. He murmured that her round, plump toes felt delicious to play with and he started to chew on the pads of her toes, nibbling and nibbling, scooping the tongue under and across the ridge, and sometimes even daringly darting to the very center of her baby-soft sole shocking her in the process.

"Oh my god, don't!" Sarah shrieked through the howling laughter, her eyes squeezed tight, her head shaking no no no, her fists clenched until the tip of his tongue scooped the ridge under her second two toes, plunging her deeper into hysterics.

Katy shut the door, a little shaken. She thought Bannon was long gone from the administration, but apparently he was still hanging around.

Just as she was processing this, she suddenly heard giggling and screaming coming from the far end of the hall. Katy briskly tip toed down the corridor, the laughing growing louder and more animated until she came to the room in question.

Katy again pushed the door slightly ajar.....and there, sitting on Putin's lap, was Ivanka, twisting and twitching and writhing in his arms. He had a big contented smile on his face, like a slice of melon, and his fingertips kept a steady flurry of tickles on her side. His technique has improved, she thought to herself, as it appeared that Ivanka was in the full throes of getting tickled, and wasn't faking it in the slightest. She had never heard or seen Ivanka like this.

"Oh my god, Vlad, that tickles! That tickles!" Ivanka giggled as she hiccupped and tried to get away.

"Are you going to sit in my chair again?" the Russian president taunted.

"I won't sit in your chair! I promise! I promise!"

"Really?"

"It was Felix Sater's idea! I swear!"

"So you like to spin around on other people's chairs, hmmm?"

"Yes! Yeeees! I'm so sorry! Oh my god, you have to stop!"

Putin relented, and, catching her breath, Ivanka sweetly rubbed his bald head, then clutched it into her bosom and kissed the top of it. Smooshed against her boobies, Putin looked like an overgrown infant, his face looking strangely content, his mouth fixed in a crooked grin.

"I love when you tickle me tickle me tickle me, Vlad!" Ivanka giddily squealed. "Do it again! Do it again!"

Putin looked startled, then broke into a big broad smile - not a good look for him, Katy thought - and he suddenly shouted "I teekle you!", this time digging in to her side, holding her steady with his other arm, as if he were cradling her. Ivanka became a hysterical, giggling mess, and Putin, perhaps caught up in the moment, started talking very fast and non-stop in Russian.

******************************************
"Donald, listen.....you're not going to believe what I just saw. Ivanka is with Putin, and he's tickling her. She can't get away!"

The President turned and looked out the window.

"Donald, what's wrong? Did you hear what I just said?"

Trump stood stone faced and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Sometimes Katy, you have to make sacrifices to get what you want. Some would say I haven't made sacrifices to get where I am, but I have, Katy, I have."

He jutted out his bottom lip and his eyes got misty. He gestured....and then just let his arm fall to the side, defeated.

"Donald, I don't think you understand. Vladmir Putin is in the other room, tickling your daughter!"

The President raised his eybrows, tilted his head....and said nothing.

"Donald! Are you listening to me? Putin has got Ivanka! He's tickling her, and she can't get away!"

He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, like a goldfish out of water. He then awkwardly turned away from her three-quarters. Then, after a moment, as if refreshing a screen, he turned back towards her with outstretched arms and a beaming smile...."Katy! Come here!"

Sighing, she walked over to him, and he turned her towards the glass wall, and together they looked down at the street.

"Look. Look out the window. What do you see?"

She saw hundreds, maybe thousands of people scurrying around like ants. All people with jobs and things to do, running to and fro.

"I see people. Human beings. People trying to get by."

Trump made a face. "You know what I see?" He got next to her and looked down. "I see women."

All of a sudden, he looked beatific and in an instant the big picture started coming into focus for Katy. All the women on the street...they were just toys to him. "Look at her." He pointed to a leggy young professional, trying to negotiate crossing the street when she didn't have the "Walk" sign. "Katy, that young girl should be tickled. Don't you see?"

Katy didn't feel so special suddenly. Men. Guys. Wasn't she ticklish enough for one man?

As if he was reading her mind, he put his arm around her and squeezed her close: "It's not that I don't enjoy you, Katy. When you find a beautiful pearl like yourself, you don't let her go. Believe me, I know. But here's the plan. Income inequality. Do you understand? Income inequality. If we make these women poor enough...I can find out who's ticklish, who's not, what their laughs are like, what spots get them going, what they'll agree to, to get me to stop. I learned this all from Putin. This is why Russia has the prettiest *****s in the world; they have no choice! They have to do it! It's either that....or they go to bed hungry! I want that, here in America!"

So it was a war on women! Inside, Katy's blood was boiling. Outwardly, her disgust was palpable.

"And Ivanka? Your daughter?"

Trump just looked at Katy and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders.

*******************
Suddenly, both of them were aware of another presence in the room. They whirled around and there, glowering at them, was the First Lady.

"Donald....who is this?"

The President started stammering.

"She's....darling, you know who this is, this is Katy! A reporter! Don't you remember Little Katy? From the rallies?"

Melania wasn't having it.

"I see, a reporter. From the rallies. And what is she doing here, now, at this hour?"

"Why, she's just...."

"Eesn't this the one you.....I can't even say it......the one you got in trouble with? Eesn't it?!!!"

The President looked away and rolled his head around as he tried to arrive at a good excuse. "No, well I.....no, I have never done something that.....you know, the rallies were just...."

Katy, suddenly face to face with his wife for the first time, was overwhelmed with guilt, and sympathy, especially when she saw how pathetically he was in coming up with a plausible explanation. Not to mention all she had just witnessed, and learned. Katy took a deep breath, turned to the First Lady and ended the charade.

"Melania.....he tickles me. He tickles me all the time. I can't get him to stop."

The First Lady's face turned to stone. "How could you?!!!" she suddenly shrieked, pounding his arm with her fist.

"Oww! Darling, you're hurting me!" he complained as he backed up a step.

The First Lady crossed her arms and tightened her lip, letting everything sink in. After a short eternity where everyone stood frozen in place, unsure of what would happen next, the Donald broke the silence by taking another tack.

"Me-laaaaa-neeee-aaa", the corpulent 70-year old sang in baby talk, mincing about. No reaction. Next he cocked his head and pouted his lips like a bad dog. The First Lady's sneer drew more severe as she shook her head and turned away. Mischievously the President took his thumb and forefinger and gingerly gave her waist a pinch. Melania's body flinched at first touch.....but her face registered annoyance and gave him a look that said "you better not."

"Now Melania" he said, poking her side, "you know and I know that just because...", his finger hit a good spot and she snorted.

"Donald, don't you dare....."

"Excuse me, I'm talking and you will listen....."

"Donald, you were teeckling her!!!!! Teeckling!" she thundered and pointed to Katy. "Her! That one! How could you?!!!! How could you?!!!!"

At this the First Lady spun on her heels and stormed out of the room like an angry queen. Donald looked after her for a minute, frozen, not sure whether to follow in hot pursuit, or let out a little flatulence. He opted for the little flatulence, a tiny little "blap" out of his sphincter....but remained frozen looking at the doorway his wife had just marched through. Suddenly he whirled his head and glaring contemptuously at Katy sneered "Great job, Fake News."

He jut his chin out and stomped out in a pout, leaving Katy alone...with the secret service agent who had been there all along.

************************************************

It was a cliche, she knew it, but he was tall, he was dark and he was handsome. He was soft spoken, confident. Everything about him said "leave it to me.....I'll take care of everything."

"So....you're in the Secret Service." she said, awkwardly, trying to make small talk. "That must be exciting."

He didn't answer. He switched gears and the car picked up speed.

"The President.....he doesn't know how to tickle you right."

Katy laughed. "Oh really?"

"Really."

Katy laughed again. "And I suppose you do?"

Not taking his eye of the road, he calmly placed his hand on her thigh - just the right spot - and squeezed. Katy eeked and giggled and squirmed in her seat.

"That's pretty good. Got me on the first try"

He took it all in stride, kept his eye on the road.

"So where am I driving you?"

"Long Island. A friend is out of town and told me I could stay at her house in Glen Cove."

"Glen Cove it is." The car shifted gear and merged on to the Long Island Expressway.

****

When they got to her doorstep things got a bit awkward saying goodnight and they ended up goofily shaking hands. But after he took three paces towards his car he stopped, turned, and their eyes met. After a moment he walked back over to her....swept her off her feet.....and carried her in. As he carried her through the foyer into the living room she kicked off her heels and enjoyed the ride.

Kissing him was delicious. His full lips enveloped her, like kissing pillows. His hands were so strong and deliberate; obviously he'd been with lots of women and knew what he was doing.

"Um, Katy....I wouldn't tell the President about this, ok?"

"Oh my god, of course not!"

"And Katy?"

"Yes?"

"Don't write about it either."

****************************

After they made love, he got up and returned to the room with a ledger. He dropped it on the bed in front of her, nodded, then went to the window and lit a cigarrette. He said nothing.

Katy tentatively opened the pages. And there it was. Almost everything. The nuclear reactors in Jordan. The tickle camps. Manafort. Flynn. The Russians. Wikileaks. Kushner. Don Jr. The only thing she didn't see was a direct reference to the Moscow Trump Tower, although it was alluded to.

"I....."

"Don't say anything" he said. "And don't write anything. I'm showing this for your own protection, not for your story."

"Yeah but...."

"Don't say anything" he repeated. "I have to go."

***

Katy started independently verifying everything she had read and started putting together the story. She also tipped off some of her colleagues, and some details started coming out in dribs and drabs.

As the press coverage got more and more relentless, the ticklings from the President began to get more severe and mean spirited. He got to calling her "Fake News" as he tickled her. "I'm tickling fake news itself!" or "Take that, Fake News!".

One night she endured a particularly savage tickling, after being tricked into thinking she was going to get her back massaged. "I'm going to tickle the fake news out of you." he promised, wedging/trapping his hands under her arms and wiggling his fingers as fast as he could. Her underarms had replaced her feet as his favorite target for tickling, especially when he was feeling stressed or in a bad mood. He took out all his frustrations with the leaks, and the bad press, and the never-ending scandals of his cabinet.....on her. Another time he simply walked into the room looking glum and angry....and very determined.

"Donald?" she asked.

He just started lumbering towards her like Frankenstein's monster and, instinctively knowing what was coming, she immediately started begging and trying to reason with him as she backed up. Grunting and roaring like a monster, he snatched her with his hands just as she turned to run away and sunk all of his fingers into her middle. As she screamed with laughter, he shut his eyes tight, relishing the feel of her body in his hands, and the sound of her laughing so hard that it almost sounded like crying.

"You like that, Fake News?"

Katy was beyond words, and even moreso when he put his thumbs around her hip bones and started kneading. She doubled over with hysterics, and both she and the President were bent forward, as he wouldn't let her go for nothing.

Finally, Katy broke free and backed up, again trying to talk sense into him.

"Donald.....ok, that's enough now....let's go to bed....." she panted, with her hands held out in front of her as her only defense. Trump was uncommunicative and just kept approaching her. He backed her into the bed, and as she fell back, he pounced, plunging both his hands into her wide open armpits.

"Coochy coochy coo, Fake News!"

Katy writhed and twisted side to side on the bed, convulsing with laughter, as he loomed over her and played with her body.

"Oh, you're going to get it tonight, Fake News." and he tickled even harder and faster. All Katy could get out as "No no no no no no" over and over again.

Suddenly he grabbed both of her wrists and held them high above her head. With one hand he was able to pin down both of her wrists, and with the other hand, he extended one finger and began alternating stroking up and down with making circles with his tickling finger.

"Did you know about these leaks I'm reading about? Did you?"

Katy was in such a state of giggles that she could barely understand the question.

"You made these stories up, didn't you! Didn't you?!!"

"NO I DIDNT, I SWEAR!" she shrieked. She was hysterical.

"Admit it! It was you, Fake News!"

"OH MY GOD, STOP PLEASE!"

"Katy.....I'm tickling you."

"DONALD, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE, PLEASE STOP!"

"Katy....I'm tickling you, and I'm going to keep tickling you until you admit it. Now where are these leaks coming from?"

Katy managed to wriggle away and started crawling across the bed. The President grabbed her ankles and pulled her back.

"Oh no you don't!" he warned, as he straddled her and put his hands on her sides. "Gotcha, Fake News!"

He started to tickle her. First on her sides. Then on her ribs. Finally he bent back her leg, flung off her shoe and started tickling her foot. She just laughed into the mattress as hard as she could.

"OK OK I ADMIT IT! I ADMIT IT! I'M FAKE NEWS!! I'M FAKE NEWS!!!!" she shrieked, banging the mattress with her palm.

"What did you say?"

"I ADMIT IT! I'M FAKE NEWS! OH MY GOD, MY POOR FOOT!"

But the President didn't let go. And he didn't say anything else. He had his admission, and now punishment was all he was meting out. He gazed at her sole, nylon clad, and just tickled it with all five fingers.

Katy's laughter almost sounded like bawling at this point, and she was tickled weak, the fight completely out of her, completely still, face down on the bed, with laughter the only thing she could manage. After a while of this, he suddenly threw down he foot, got up and abruptly left the room, leaving her on the bed, breathless, hair all mussed up, and trembling, as if her body expected another attack at any moment.

***********************
"Listen, we are so close to blowing this thing wide open! I'm talking Pulitzer Prize, Katy! I'm talking.....I'm talking Nobel fucking Peace Prize, do you understand?"

As Jan marched around the room, unable to contain her glee, Katy sunk into her chair and became sullen. As she rounded the chair, Jan abruptly stopped the celebrating.

"Katy...are you ok? What's wrong? This is great work! You're the next Woodward and Bernstein! You should be happy right now!"

Katy stared into space and thought about it all.

"Jan...have you ever been tickled by a Republican?"

Jan shuddered and shook her head. She couldn't even imagine it. Katy took a sip of her water and continued, her head bowed down, embarrassed, but the words tumbling out of her.

" It's terrible. it's like....they just don't care. I beg and I beg and I tell them that they're scaring me....or that I can't breathe.......or that I can't take it.....and they just keep tickling. Sometimes they laugh while they do it. Or they just ignore me. And I can't stop them. They're heartless people. I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Jan walked around her desk and knelt down in front of Katy.

"Look at me, Katy." But Katy couldn't raise her head.

"Katy....look at me." Katy slowly raised her head and met Jan's eyes with her own.

"We've almost got him. Do you understand? We almost got him."

"Yeah, well...I don't know if I want to 'get him'"

Jan put a finger to her lips and shushed her.

"Katy.....we've almost got him. Almost got them. The world is depending on you. All we need is to understand the Trump Tower in Moscow deal. Ok? Then....you never have to do this ever again."

**********************
Katy was on the phone, determined to get the story this time. She put on her best distressed voice.

"Donald, listen....I'm in big trouble with my boss. She thinks I haven't been doing anything. Can we do an interview tonight? Just so I have something to give to her?"

"Yeah yeah yeah, just come over."

But once she was with him, he just wanted to tickle and fuck. Luckily for her, he went easy on her, complaining he had a touch of agita. Great, she thought, should be a long, gassy night.

Trump lay back and closed his eyes. She slung her leg over his thighs and started running her fingers through the few strands of chest hair he had. She knew she had to act fast, or he'd be fast asleep in no time.

"So why don't you tell me what really happened with the Trump Tower in Moscow, hmmm?"

"Oh Katy, there's nothing to tell, I'm exhausted, let's get to sleep."

"Really?"

"Really."

She kissed his cheek.

"Oh come on.....you can tell me, can't you?"

Trump was irritated. "Katy, I told you, I'm exhausted, there's nothing to tell, let's get to sleep."

Suddenly she had an idea. What's good for the goose is good for the gander. Why had she never thought of this before? Of course! A taste of his own medicine! She had tried everything else: snooping, interviewing, trying to connect the dots. There was only one thing she hadn't tried. Katy moved her hand down lower and started playing with his flab....and the President began to laugh.

"Oh no Katy, don't do that!" he cackled out urgently, and, amused at how the tables had turned, Katy modified her style. "Ticklish, Mr. President?" The President snickered like Popeye.

"Oh my god, your nails!" he gasped. As she tickled, she looked up at him. He was beet red and looked like an overgrown Oompa Loompa having a fit. Katy continued to tickle.

"I said tell me about Trump Tower in Moscow! Tell me, you fat bastard!" She dug in to his gelantinous sides with all five nails .

"No-ho-hooooo!"

Katy scurried her nails all over his massive gut. The corpulent old coot didn't even give up a fight, he was limp, as if this was a new sensation he had no idea how to combat.

"Tell me, I said!"

"Ok! Ok! I'll tell you! I drop sanctions, I get to build tower! I drop sanctions, I get to build tower! Now stooooop!"

Katy wasn't finished. "In other words, you sold out the country so you could make your stupid building???!! Is that what you're saying?!!!"

The President just squeezed his eyes shut and continued his cackling.

"Katy, please, hold up, hold up! You're going to give me a heart attack here!" But Katy was relishing being the one in control for a change.

"You've been tickling me for months! Not so funny now, is it?!!!"

"Oh no Katy don't!"

"Is it?!!!"

"Whoah, Katy, look out!"

"Answer me!"

"Big one coming!"

"That's your answer?"

All of a sudden, an enormous roar emitted from the President's bottom, like a charging elephant. The stench was instantaneous, and recognizing this was no ordinary incident of flatulence, Katy immediately leaped out of the bed. Furious, Trump reached down the back of his PJ pants and emerged with a brown, gooey hand.

"You made me have a bowel movement, you asshole! I told you to stop! Damn you! Damn you!!!!! I'm.....I'm the President!"

Katy was absolutely revolted. She was revolted by the revelations of his treason, at the fact that he had called her an abusive name.....but mostly because he had shit the bed. There might not be a pee-pee tape, she thought to herself, but she couldn't think of a more fitting image for the state of the country than the one before her now. Trump's face darkened and she was a little shocked that he chose to wallow in his own filth rather than lift a finger to help himself.

"Who will clean this mess?!!!" he glared at her accusingly. Katy started hurriedly gathering her things. "Donald, I gotta go....this is ridiculous. It's over."

"You'll be sorry, young lady! Very sorry! You can't leave me like this! I need a washcloth!"

As she walked on she called back to him: "You know Donald, they're going to have to keep the windows open for a whole year to air out the stink from you being in this place. The People's House deserves better....and so do I. Goodbye, Donald."

************
From The New York Times:

"Above other things, Putin wanted sanctions lifted. He wanted to destroy the Atlantic alliance. He wanted to divide the US electorate. He wanted a weak commander in chief. And most bizarrely he aimed to create an intercontinental exchange program of ticklish women by crippling the US economy so much that it forced the female citizenry into prostitution or, in this case, fetish models. Both Mr. Putin and Mr. Trump are said to share this obscure fetish....No comment from the White House as Miss Tur is expected to meet with the Mueller team later today...."

****
To get away from the fallout, Katy took a long, well-deserved vacation out of the country at an exclusive resort. The network paid for the whole thing. She spent most of her time sunning herself next to her private pool, and binge watching "Veep". She didn't even tell her family where she was.

After a week and a half, she started to get restless and decided to go check out the resort's nightlife. She put on a wig, then a hat, then a pair of tortoise shell glasses. She wasn't looking to do anything other than observe, stretch her legs, have a drink or two, and come back to finish season two.

Spanish hip hop was blaring so loud, you could feel it in your chest....outside of the club. When she got in, there were only a few people, some of them older, dancing or milling about. Some nightlife, she thought, and ordered herself a fruity drink with a bamboo umbrella in it.

"It's called the Wow Wow, very popular!" shouted the bartender over the music.

But after having just a few sips, things started to get a little trippy. Her vision became fish-eyed, and her equilibrium was wobbly, especially when she turned her head. The last thing she remembered was reaching for a barstool to steady herself. Then she blacked out.

She awoke sitting in a chair, with her arms outstretched above her, tied at the wrist, the rope bound to a beam high above.

"You awake?"

She turned and saw her nameless secret service beau sitting on a folding chair, with an open newspaper on his lap. Katy gasped.

"What the...."

"I told you not to pass on that information, Katy. I told you. I told you for your own protection. And now, there's all....this." He gestured towards the rope above her head.

"Listen...."

" Sh sh shhhhhh" he held up a finger to his lips. "It's out of my hands."

He got up and walked out of the room, and she could hear his muffled voice murmuring to somebody. Katy frantically looked above and yanked on the rope to see if she could get it loose...but to no avail. Then she heard the door open, and she froze in attention.

Click. Click. Click. She heard high heels pacing back and forth behind her. Over and over. Katy tried to turn her head to see who it was, but had no luck. That is until Kellyanne put her face right next to Katy's and said "Tell me, Katy.... what were you doing with us, really? You work for a liberal network, you voted for Hillary.....why were you hanging around so much?"

"Let me go!" Katy demanded, tugging at the rope.

"Tsk tsk tsk....now Katy, I thought you would know better than to FUCK WITH ME!"

Katy froze. She was scared. She had never heard Kellyanne raise her voice before.

"Now are you going to tell me what I want to know? Or am I going to have to extract it through other means? Are you going to tell me the information? Or do I just tickle the fuck out of you....?"

Remembering what Hope had told her about Kellyanne's maternal nature, Katy started pleading.

"Kellyanne, I'm scared....I'm really scared right now...."

But Kellyanne didn't care. She just "mmm-hmm'd" and held up her hands in front of Katy's bare exposed armpits.

"I know you're ticklish, Katy...."

"Kellyanne, not there, please..." Kellyanne started wiggling her fingers, her long red nails getting closer.

"You liberal girls are so ticklish..."

Kellyanne's nails started grazing Katy's flesh. Katy's expression immediately switched from distress and fear...to giggles and smiles. She hiccupped with laughter as Kellyanne danced her nails all around Katy's pits. At one point she raised her head, looked directly at Kellyanne's grinning face and said through the laughter "Oh my god....that really tickles."

Kellyanne just kept grinning and tickling, you'd have thought she was doing something pleasant like decorating a Christmas tree.

"Now Katy....dear dear Katy.....did you speak to the special counsel?"

"No, I didn't!" Katy squealed

"The paper says it does, Katy."

"The paper is wrong! I thought you didn't believe the press!"

Kellyanne took her two pointer fingers and moved deeper into the hollows of Katy's underarms. Katy threw her head back, squeezed her eyes shut and fell deeper into guttural laughter.

"Why don't you join us, Katy?"

Katy didn't answer. Katy couldn't answer.

"C'mon, sweetie, just give in to it.You know you wanna!" she sing-songed.

Katy looked down at her right underarm, her face temporarily managing abject fear and dread before again snapping her head back with hysterics when Kellyanne suddenly grabbed her midsection and started squeezing. Katy's brows furrowed, her forehead in wrinkles, her mouth drawn in a frozen open mouth smile, her body hitching.

But Kellyanne could not break her. Katy was so hysterical, she could barely process the questions Kellyanne was posing to her.

"Who leaked to you?"

Katy just shook her head violently, though it was unclear to Kellyanne whether or not that was in response to the question, or to being tickled.

"Not going to answer that?"

Katy just bawled with laughter, "Oh my god stop!"

"You going to admit you made it all up? Fake news?"

Kellyanne started spidering her fingers all around Katy's hipbones. Katy started simply screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Oh, you like that spot!" Kellyanne teased, and moved her fingertips a half inch to the sides, making it tickle even more.

"You're not going to answer any of my questions, are you? You want to be tickled, don't you? Tell me you want to be tickled. Tell me, and I'll let you go!"

Katy's abs were so sore from laughing. "My stomach hurts!" she pleaded through the laughter. "My stomach hurts" she said again. Kellyanne was unmoved. So much for the maternal instinct, Katy managed to think.

Suddenly the door opened and Kellyanne immediately ceased torturing Katy's body.

"Ok, she's all yours." Then she turned to the tied and tickled journalist and said "I tried, Katy. I guess this is what you want."

Katy panted and caught her breath, and Omarosa walked in with a pleasant corporate smile that was all business.

"You're not going to give me any trouble, are you? Because I just love to tickle pretty white girls who lie about our President."

Once again, Katy tried to reason with her tormentor.

"Omarosa, hi.....I know you must have gone through this too so you know how bad it is and..." Omarosa cut her off, shaking her head dismissively.

"Omarosa's not ticklish, honey. A man can touch me anywhere he wants, and I can take it. I'm a woman, not a girl. You hear me?"

Katy nodded softly and sadly.

"You're just a girl." Omarosa continued.

Katy tried one last time. "Please don't tickle me anymore."

Omarosa started kissing around Katy's ear and neck. Katy hiccupped and writhed urgently.

"Tickles, doesn't it?"

Omarosa brought her fingers into it, wiggling her long burgandy nails around the sides of Katy's breasts, just an inch and half below the underarms. Katy's laughter jumped an octave.

"Oh don't! I can't take it!" she pleaded.

"You should have thought have thought of that before you published all those lies about our President." Omarosa started tickling the underboobs.

"Oooo, what do we have here?"

"Not my breasts, don't tickle my breasts!"

Omarosa had a sophisticated technique that not Donald, or Ivanka, or the secret service agent, or Kellyanne shared. And certainly not Putin. The technique seemed to be focus on a spot...which made the surrounding areas more sensitive....and then move to these close areas. Her fingers seemed to detect every nuance of Katy's ticklish skin.

"Ok, ok, I'm fake news! I'm fake news! I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!"

But Omarosa kept tickling. Katy's mind was racing, what does she want from me? All of a sudden, Omarosa moved her hands down to Katy's hipbones...and started kneading around them with her thumbs.

"You have anything else to say Katy?"

Katy's head was resting on the side of her outstretched arm, eyes squeezed shut, mouth fixed in a permanent, defeated smile and silent laughter.

"No" she mouthed.

"You sure?"

"Yes" she mouthed, while trying to manage the slightest of nods.

"Do you love it, Katy? Tell me you love it."

She tried to answer but the fingers hit a spot and it sent her laughing and twitching back with shut eyes and wrinkled nose.

"Kateeee", Omarosa singsonged and then speaking slowly and deliberately, ennunciating each word, separately from the rest. "I said tell me you love it."

"Yes!"

"I don't believe you. Tell me you love it."

"Ok! Ok! I love it! I love it!"

"And tell me you love him. Tell me you love our President."

"No please....."

"Katy...."

"Ok, I love him! I love him! I love it! I love it!"

So Omarosa dug in. Katy exploded with laughter, hyper, excited laughter, deep from within her, the very essence of her little girl soul coaxed out by a finger's touch....and just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she grabbed one breath so that she could scream just two words. "Don't stop!" Omarosa smiled, and she dug in even harder, all ten of her fingers savagely tickling the bound journalist's sensitive waist . Katy was hysterical, just barely gasping out "don't stop, don't stop" over and over.

Omarosa grinned. She had broken her. Katy, hysterical, begged and babbled incoherently, repeating over and over "don't stop".....and that she was in love with him. She loved President Trump.

The End

**************************************************