The Candidate-Part 4 of 4
Donna was fucking again and everything was all right.
Tom had insisted that she and DeeDee go shopping for the night’s party. They had rounded up a cadre of five bodyguards and gone out to blow another few thousand dollars of campaign funds on liquor, munchies, and clothes. When they got back there was a note saying ‘Do Not Disturb’ on the guest room door. Tom and Susan were presumably within.
DeeDee suggested that they thoroughly thank their escort in the living room and Donna eagerly concurred. Now she had a strong young man between her thighs, his cock throbbing inside of her. Every nerve of her body was singing in ecstasy. Yes, no matter what else in life was doubtful or disturbing, Donna knew that her reason for being was to give and receive sexual pleasure.
The young man exploded inside of her and her orgasm engulfed his. She collapsed, reeling and panting. Bliss.
Again the image of Susan’s slumped form came unbidden. Her comfort fled.
She rolled off of her spent stallion and crawled toward one of his comrades. Fuck. Don’t think. Just Fuck.
And then the scream came. A series of screams, really. Susan was awake.
Donna shuddered. It would be so easy to just keep fucking. But she knew that she had to go to her friend. The boys didn’t object—they all looked disturbed by what might be going on upstairs. Even DeeDee’s ever-present smile looked somewhat forced.
Donna shakily made her way upstairs. She stood outside the guest room door and listened. Susan’s cries had become muffled. Donna’s heart was in her throat.
“No one’s going to help you, bitch!” she heard Tom saying, his voice cold and cruel. “So stop screaming and just let it happen. In no time at all, you’ll be a happy little bimbo just like your boss!”
This brought another muffled cry. Donna couldn’t take it anymore. She opened the door.
There was Susan, spread-eagle on the bed she had slept in while Donna seduced Jeff a week earlier. Her arms and legs were tied to each post of the canopied bed with four of Donna’s scarves. She was naked, her pale flesh shivering, Her face was streaked with tears and snot, dark circles under her eyes. A pale green mass of cloth which Donna guessed were her friend’s panties were stuffed in her mouth.
“Oh my God, Tom!” exclaimed Donna, “What are you doing? You said you were just going to calm her down and talk to her!”
Tom looked up with utter contempt from where he sat fiddling with his microphone.
“I am talking to her, you silly little slut!” he declared with glee. “I’m giving her the interview of a lifetime! Tell me Susan, how do you feel about the prospect of becoming a fucktoy?”
“Mgeemgphf!” screamed the restrained woman as the reporter placed his big microphone on the pillow beside her head. She struggled against her bonds with renewed vigor. Then, as Donna watched, her friend’s struggles came with less and less effort, her frantic cries replaced with confused, muffled moans.
“Tom...this...this isn’t right,” stammered Donna, finding it hard to criticize him. “I...I don’t want...”
The man turned on her, his eyes predatory. He advanced on her, smiling wickedly.
“Let’s not worry about what you don’t want,” he chided. “What’s important is what you do want, isn’t it my dear trollop.”
At this, he gripped her crotch firmly under her short blue skirt and began to expertly knead her sex.
“And we all know what it is that you want, don’t we now,” he said with a low chuckle.
Donna moaned. God but his hands felt good. What had she been saying?
Susan lay on the bed, staring at her with glazed eyes. She wanted to say something to Susan, but all she could think about was Tom’s hand and her pussy and every inch of her electrified skin. She melted into her friend’s tormentor, all thought but one having fled.
“Take me Tom,” she whispered. “Take me now. Please.”
And he did. Right there in front of Susan. But just when Donna was about to come, he pulled out and Donna howled in frustration.
“No, I don’t think you deserve to come just now,” Tom taunted. “Think about that next time you feel like objecting to my methods.”
He went over to the bed and shot his wad all over Susan, who now slept with a contented look on her face. Tom pulled the panties from her mouth and she sighed, smiled, and breathed Donna’s name in the warmest, sweetest voice.
Something caught in the blonde woman’s throat. The emotions that had sent her up the stairs were back, but in violent conflict with her urgent need to come. She knew if she started to masturbate, Tom would just stop her. He was so mean—why did she let him treat her like this?
“Sounds like your guests have arrived,” Tom observed, pointing out the sounds of the nightly party beginning below. “You’d better go entertain them. Maybe you’ll have better luck coming next time.”
Donna glanced once more at her tiny, dark haired friend tied there on the bed, then fled the room for the party below. She got more people off and got off herself more times and with more exertion than she had any night that week. She swilled booze and popped pills until she could barely remember her own name. But it just wasn’t like before.
Susan’s image never left her mind.
The next morning, Donna rolled a barely conscious nineteen year-old kid off of her. He groaned, then curled up in fetal position on the floor. Donna didn’t recognize him and she wondered how lucid either of them had been when they started something neither could finish. She looked around the living room where she had slept—trashed even worse than yesterday.
The hangover quelled the euphoria enough for all the repressed emotions to charge to the forefront of her mind. She had to see her—see if she was all right.
Donna stumbled up the stairs to the room where her friend had been bound. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but Susan still lay there tied to the bed. Her once short dark brown hair now curled down to her shoulders. Her once tiny breasts now stood up like miniature mountains, their nipples hard in the morning air. She was awake and her face was a peculiar mix of frustration, bemusement, and resignation.
“Donna, you’re a mess,” she said, smiling warmly at her friend.
“Oh Susan!” she cried, and rushed to her friend. Donna embraced the diminutive brunette with arms and legs combined. Tied as she was, Susan could only nuzzle her face against Donna’s blonde mane.
“I’m sorry, Susan” said Donna, looking into her big brown eyes.
“I’m O.K., Donna,” consoled her friend. “Really, I feel great, except for just a couple of things.”
She glanced pointedly at her tied wrists. Donna apologetically untied one scarf and the freed hand flew to its owner’s snatch. Donna looked at her friend vigorously masturbating, her enlarged breasts bouncing, and she thought it was the most wonderful site she had ever seen. The other ties forgotten, Donna rushed to assist her friend in her clearly more urgent need. With Donna’s mouth and hands busily worshiping her body, Susan began to reel with multiple orgasms that showed no sign of stopping. She called out Donna’s name again and again.
As Donna made her way back up her satiated friend’s body, there was a chuckle from the doorway. Tom had watched the whole thing. Donna was immediately afraid that her advisor-turned-dictator would be angry with her for untying her friend, but the maniacal reporter only pushed her off of the bed, heedless of where she landed, and took her place beside Susan.
“Well, I see you’re well on your way to becoming a permanent part of my own private peep show,” he observed. “Feeling a bit more compliant this morning?”
“Go to hell, you fucking prick!” Susan spat out, struggling to make her face portray nothing but vitriol despite the warm glow emanating from within her.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Tom in false dismay, “Such language from such a little lady! I’m beginning to think that you don’t like me. Or did you mean it as a compliment? I would think you’d have developed quite a fondness for fucking pricks, haven’t you?”
He grabbed her free hand and guided it to his crotch, but the little brunette just snorted and pulled her hand away, then stared pointedly at the ceiling.
“Well, the wonder-bitch has quite a formidable will, does she?” he observed , genuinely surprised. “Or is it something else? Hmmm. Could it be that our dear under-sexed Susan never found the right man because she was never looking?”
Susan continued to ignore him; only a slight blush confirmed his postulate.
“Well, no matter Suzi-dear!” he said, going to the dresser and retrieving his microphone. “I have a feeling that your sexual preferences are about to become a little broader. You see, my little device here hyperstimulates and over-develops the sexual centers of the brain. One of the delightful results of this process is that the subject becomes much less discriminating about who, where, how, and even what they will fuck.”
“Yes,” he said, grabbing hold of the bound woman’s free hand and pointing his microphone at her face, “I believe that you may find this next treatment a bit disorienting, as it were.”
Tom flipped the switch and Susan’s futile struggle against his iron grip slacked off as her eyes went glassy.
“There now, Suzi,” cooed Tom. “That’s much better, isn’t it? Nice and warm.”
“Nice...” Susan sighed.
“Now my mean old prick doesn’t seem quite so threatening, does it?” he asked, guiding her now unresisting hand back to his crotch. “I think you might even want to ride it when you wake up.”
A look of utter confusion came across the former campaign manager’s face and she shook her head in slow motion.
“Don’t wanna fuck you,” she mumbled. “Wanna fuck Donna!”
“Oh, you can fuck Donna too, my horny little play thing,” Tom consoled. “You can fuck Donna over and over again. I think I’d like to watch that. In fact, I think everyone would like to watch that. So, if you’re a good little slut and do what you’re told, you can go to the party with Donna tonight and you can fuck each other’s brains out in the living room. Won’t that be nice?”
“Fuck...Donna,” she breathed and smilingly sank back into the big, soft bed and let sleep consume her.
Donna sprawled on the floor where she had been discarded. She had watched and listened to everything and could no longer deny that Tom was responsible for the recent changes in her life. She also couldn’t deny that he really wasn’t a very nice person. Still, whenever she entertained thoughts that perhaps she should run away from him, she was overwhelmed by a dark feeling of worthlessness and a sudden lull in the euphoria that nearly sent her into a panic.
She rationalized that Tom really wasn’t all that bad. After all, this had been the greatest, most exciting time in her life. If Tom was responsible for it, she should be grateful, shouldn’t she? And Susan would be grateful too, very soon. She looked so great there on the bed. All this talk of fucking had made Donna horny. She resolved once again not to worry about Tom and to let her pussy be her guide.
She reached up and began to stroke Tom’s member, which had grown rock hard has he had dosed her bound friend. He switched off the microphone and looked down at her.
“Oh, are you still here?” he grinned. “Was there something you wanted?”
Donna stared up at him with wide eyes and slowly licked her lips.
“Ok, slut,” he said. “I’ll let you blow me and if you do a good job, I’ll fuck you doggie-style.”
Donna smiled and started to undo his pants, when a beeping emanated from the cell-phone at his belt. Donna looked at him anxiously, afraid that he might deny her, but he waved her on distractedly and took the call has she took the red head of his penis in her mouth.
“Yes?” he asked, then took on an annoyed look. “You really shouldn’t be calling me. I told you that before.........Don’t be an idiot. It’s entirely to risky. I regret having conceded to the stunt in the limo.”
Tom looked down at Donna as her lips slipped back and forth along his rod, fingers gently rubbing his balls. He smiled at her. She gushed.
“Yes, she is quite a piece of ass, isn’t she? She’s sucking me off right now!” he bragged. “Double? Well...no. I’m afraid it’s out of the question. We’ve already had one close call....No, I took care of it. The slut’s campaign manager figured out that I was responsible for her new found love of fuck, but I’ve got her tied up over here and she’s learning that there are better things to do with her mouth than make accusations............You’re kidding....You would spend 10K for one night with two women while risking your entire career? I’m beginning to understand how the federal budget got so ridiculously out of control....Yes, I know that the House is in charge of the budget, you idiot!”
“Look, the election is in 8 days. You just tend to your campaign, make sure that I get my funding at the first of the year, and I’ll take both of them out to my lab in Tahiti. Once the money starts flowing, you can come out for ‘congressional oversight’ whenever you want.”
Tom laughed heartily.
“DeeDee too? My God, man! Maybe you should seek help for your little problem. It can be an addiction, you know. I think I’ve proved that pretty definitively...Very well, I won’t meddle in your personal life. Just make sure I get my money. And don’t call me again until then.”
He switched off and returned his attention to Donna, who blinked up at him. She was curious what he’d been talking about, but much more concerned about if her blow job was convincing.
With a cackle, he pushed her head back off his shaft, pulled her up to flop across Susan’s sleeping form and slid himself deep inside her from behind. Donna was in heaven. She moaned and squealed as Tom fucked her hard. She dug her nails into her sleeping friends body and bit her, but Susan just purred and continue slumber. At last he came, filling her with cum as she orgasmed again and again.
He pulled out of her and slapped her ass. Donna giggled and then began to stroke and kiss Susan, wishing she would wake up. She looked so pretty. Donna would swear her tits and hair were growing right before her eyes.
“Come now, my little cock-sucker.” said Tom. “Your playmate will be up and horny in a few hours. Leave her be until then.”
Donna conceded, as she always did with Tom, but that didn’t seem like a bad thing at all at the moment. She got up and staggered out of the room, Tom’s sperm running down her leg. She wanted to go find DeeDee. There were things she wanted to do with Susan when her friend woke up that she wanted to practice first. Susan would be a slut just like her. It was a happy thought. Nothing else seemed to matter.
Several hours later, Donna tip-toed back into the guest room with DeeDee in tow. She felt like she was a little girl sneaking out early on Christmas morning. And there on the bed was her present.
Susan’s dark locks curled around her angelic face in a tangled mass, winding down over her shoulders and around her breasts. And what incredible breasts they were! They would have seemed largish on a swimsuit model, but on Susan’s tiny body they looked almost cartoonish. The busty brunette still slept, moaning softly and calling out Donna’s name or occasionally Hillary or Janet. The bound woman’s free hand was deeply entrenched in her sopping pussy.
Donna quietly untied her friend’s other hand while indicating that DeeDee should loosen her feet. The red head giggled and tried to undo the scarves, but the knots proved to complicated for her and the task fell to Donna.
Susan’s other hand proceeded to knead one of her enlarged breasts and she giggled in her sleep. Donna had never heard Susan giggle when she was sober and only rarely when she was drunk. She decided that she liked the sound of it.
The blonde woman took her sleeping friend’s other breast in hand and, squeezing, kissed her long and full on the mouth. The brunette’s eyes fluttered open. She looked about in confusion until her eyes found focus on Donna’s face as she broke off the kiss. The small woman smiled brightly.
“Oh, Donna! I was just dreaming about you!” she exclaimed in a warm, wet voice.
The blonde grinned wickedly at her friend, who responded with a naughty giggle.
“Sweet Mother of God but I’m horny!” the former campaign manager declared.
“I was hoping you’d say that!” said Donna and she dove into Susan’s snatch.
“I...I see...ummm...why you—oh!...didn’t ressssssssss—eep!..resist it,” Susan managed. “Feels reaeaea....really, really good!”
The small woman arched her back and shuddered.
“Oh God, Donna, don’t stop! Never ever stop! Fuck me! Fuck me!” she cried.
Donna redoubled her efforts and Susan continued to reel in ecstacy. DeeDee bounded onto the bed and started to play with Susan’s hard nipples. The red head smiled at the vaguely questioning Susan and then kissed her deeply. Susan reciprocated with gusto. Once DeeDee gave her back her tongue, she looked down at Donna and asked: “Whose your friend? Um!”
“That’s DeeDee,” said Donna, lifting her head and letting her fingers improvise a solo while she got a better view of her two gorgeous playmates.
“I’m a slut!” declared DeeDee cheerfully.
“Well,” said Susan, “I guess that makes three of us!”
The three women giggled and then Susan flipped Donna on her back and went to work on her blonde friend saying “You’re incredible for a rookie, darling, but let me show how a veteran does it!”
Donna had thought she had learned everything there was to know about lesbian sex in the past week. She had thought wrong. An hour later, thought really wasn’t even an option.
“Well, I see you girls are enjoying yourselves!”
Susan jerked at the sound of Tom’s voice, which caused Donna to squeak, being as the brunette’s diminutive fist was deep inside the blonde’s pussy. The red-maned head clamped between her thighs didn’t skip a beat and continued to suck the creamy filling from her cupcake, so Susan had a hard time focusing on the man in the bedroom doorway.
“Go away, prick!” she managed. “Busy....Very busy...”
“Now, now, my little tart!” chided Tom “Still with that attitude! We must do something about that! Donna, DeeDee, stop this instant!”
DeeDee’s head withdrew, though she continued liking Susan’s juices off her own face and fingers. Donna looked apologetically at Susan as she released the woman’s nipples and slid her hand out of her. Susan pouted.
“Come now, Suzi! You’re a big girl! A very big girl now!” he said, tweaking a nipple on the brunette’s swollen left breast. “You should know how to share—there’s a dozen people downstairs that would just love to see the show you’re putting on up here and more coming by the minute. We won’t be able to pack them all in here—it would be a fire hazard! Don’t be selfish—your audience awaits! Donna, fix your hair! We might still get camera men—it’s been a slow news day.”
Donna scampered to the bureau and started combing out her tangled mane.
“Why do you let him tell you what to do, Donna?” asked an exasperated Susan.
“I...I don’t know. I just...I have to. He’s really not so bad, Susan...really. It just feels so much better if you do what he says.”
“He’s a prick, Donna, and he must be making you feel like you have to obey him.”
Donna looked down at the floor. Why couldn’t life be simpler? She hated feeling conflicted. She had been feeling so great just a moment ago. She decided the easiest thing would be to convince Susan to do what Tom wanted. It wasn’t what she wanted, but the idea of openly disagreeing with Tom was just too weighty a matter to even consider.
“Please, Susan,” she pleaded, going to her friend and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Just...just go along with him. For me?”
Susan resigned herself to the inevitable, knowing that it was the only way in the near future that she and Donna and the hot red head could resume their play.
“He’s still a prick, though!” she said defiantly.
“All right, then! Prick I may be, but I’m a thoughtful prick! I had a bit of shopping to do earlier and I took the liberty of buying my two favorite bimbo’s outfits for the party tonight!”
From a paper sack Tom took two matching PVC play suits. He handed the hot pink one to Donna and the aquamarine one to Susan, both of whom accepted them with growing excitement at the idea of seeing the other wearing hers.
“I think they should fit, but if they don’t I can tailor you later.” Tom chuckled at his own joke.
The two women helped each other into the shiny plastic outfits and pulled on the matching boots. Tom oooed and awwed over them mockingly. DeeDee put on a somewhat similar black outfit which she already owned and joined in the flaunting, but Tom ignored her, to her obvious disappointment. The other two women did their best to praise her although they were clearly more captivated by each other.
“Well now,” said Tom. “Almost ready to go show yourselves off and get thoroughly screwed. Just one more thing.”
He held out his hands, the left to Donna with a little green pill, the right to Susan with two big blue ones. Donna took hers reluctantly.
“What are those?” asked Susan, anger rising in her voice at this further delay of her tryst with Donna.
“Party favors” smiled Tom. “They’re to help you with that attitude problem until you’ve recovered enough for the final treatment.”
“Fuck you!” spat Susan.
“Maybe later,” replied Tom, “But if you don’t take them, you won’t be fucking anyone tonight. I can’t have you sober enough to be telling any stories about me with any sort of coherence. So if you don’t want to take your medicine, I’ll just have to tie you up again and leave you here while Donna and DeeDee go to the orgy without you.”
Susan shook with rage and frustration and Donna looked at her pleadingly. She looked back and her features softened, her shoulders slumping.
“Oh, fuck it!” she said, and took the proffered recreational pharmaceuticals.
“Very well then!” exclaimed Tom after checking that she had swallowed. “On to our happy little get together!”
The crowd of twenty some odd people were already in high spirits when the entourage arrived. The nightly party had taken on a life of it’s own and really didn’t require Donna at all, except of course as a source for the house and the alcohol. A handful of women had taken to imitating Donna behavior, if not her pace. The Herald had called them copy-cat nymphomaniacs in a full color spread. A couple of them had already arrived, one of them being Dr. Wang’s nurse Jena, and they were getting the orgy off with a bang. Still, everyone looked and cheered when Donna and Susan entered the living room. Now the party could really begin.
“Hi everybody!” shouted Donna. “This is my absolute bestest friend Susan!”
Everyone greeted Susan, some of the drunker ones with excited howls. Donna’s heart was racing and her eyes twitching. She was excited to be with Susan, but she had gained enough experience recently to identify her pill as amphetamine.
She looked to her friend and saw that Susan’s pills definitely were not. Her head was wobbling around like a day-old helium balloon. She was grinning like an idiot and her eyes were unfocused.
“Hi everybozzy!” she exclaimed and gave an exaggerated wave to the crowd which unbalanced her and caused her to twirl and face-plant into Donna’s cleavage. The crowd laughed good naturedly. Susan freed her face but continued to stare at the blonde’s boobs.
“Pretty!” she declared and grabbed hold of them with both hands.
Donna giggled and kissed her friend long and hard. Susan melted into her. The crowd cheered. Tom guided the entangled pair over to the dining room and encouraged them up onto the large oak table. The two women weren’t really paying attention to where they were or who was watching. The universe consisted of their two warm, soft, moist bodies.
Donna didn’t know how long they spent in that timeless place, only that the crowed had multiplied exponentially but the speed was still coursing through her blood stream when at last she looked up. Tom was shaking her.
“Donna! Come to the kitchen a moment! I want to talk to you!”
Regretfully, Donna disengaged from her lover. Susan’s head lolled over to look at her.
“Donna go bye-bye?” she asked in a pouty tone which was then engulfed by a fit of giggles.
“I’ll come right back, Susan!” Donna promised. “Then we can fuck some more!”
“Suzi likes to fuck Donna!” proclaimed the stoned brunette.
“And Donna loves to fuck Suzi!” shouted back Donna as Tom led her away. Jena, always the exhibitionist, saw the free spot on the table and immediately replaced her. Donna smiled as the nurse slipped her bright orange dildo into Susan, knowing that her friend would not be lonely while she was gone.
In the relative calm of the kitchen, Tom explained his concern that Donna and Susan were spending too much time being exclusive and that they needed to be including their guests in the fun. He was especially anxious to see Susan start fucking men.
Donna shook her head violently, leaving her dizzy with stars shooting through her vision.
“Suzi doesn’t like boys,” she explained. “She told me.”
“Suzi doesn’t know what she likes anymore!” declared Tom. “Come on now, Donna! How can she be a proper slut if she rejects fifty percent of the population from the outset? Convince her to service a cock or two or else the two of you will being going to bed—separately—right now!”
Donna agreed as always and made her way back to where Jena was still playing with Susan. The nurse kissed Donna and allowed her to resume her station at the table, conceding to her as hostess and mentor. Susan sat up and stared at her a moment then yipped and embraced her.
“Donna! You came back!” she said, then giggled.
“Of course I came back, Susan!” said Donna, hugging her tightly.
“Now Susan,” she said, taking her drug-addled head in her hands, “You want to be a slut, right?”
Susan smiled and nodded awkwardly with her clasped head.
“I wanna be Donna’s slut!”
The blonde blushed and almost started doing her once again, but Tom’s watching eyes stopped her.
“Yes, Susan, you’re my slut! But you can’t just be my slut—a real slut fucks lots of people!”
Susan crossed and uncrossed her eyes.
“But I <giggle> I did fuck lots of people! A girl jus’ gave me this!” she declared, indicating the dildo that Jena had left inside her. “An I , uh, there was that one girl upstairs.”
“Yes, Susan,” said Donna, “You’re a very good slut. But you can do better. See all the boys around here that want to fuck you?”
The brunette sputtered and laughed at the same time.
“Donna, Donna, Donna,” she said, then looking around for prying ears, leaned conspiratorially close to her friend and whispered in a voice that could be heard in the next room, “I’m a lesthpian!”
Donna could see this was going to be awkward. Better not to try and convince her verbally. She looked around the room for possible assistance and was relieved to see Milind and Larry.
Milind and Larry were film students at Boston University. They were regulars at Donna’s parties. In one of her rare semi-sober moments, they had explained to her their plans to revolutionize the porn industry with film that were both written and directed professionally. Larry was a squat, chubby white boy who wanted to be Spike Lee. Milind was a second generation Indian-American who had shoulder length dark hair and an absolutely adorable cock that Donna had made use of a number of times. Donna called Milind over and predictably Larry followed with his digital vidcam.
“Milind, Larry, this is my friend Susan” Donna introduced.
“Hey there, sweetness,” said Larry. “Man, you are foxy!”
Susan giggled. Milind, looking as refined at an orgy as he would at the opera, simply smiled and nodded greeting.
“Milind, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” said Donna. “Could you take off your pants?”
The film student raised an eyebrow at the abruptness, but then calmly complied, saying that he was always honored to be of service to the hostess.
“Actually, this time it’s for Susan, if she’s willing,” Donna explained. “You see, she hasn’t actually done it with a guy in a long time.”
“No fuckin’ way!” said Larry. “She looks like a total slut!”
Milind gave his friend a withering look. Susan giggled.
“So anyway, Milind,” Donna continued. “I wanted to teach Susan how to use a cock and I was hoping that we could use yours.”
“It is yours to command, my lady,” he declared. “Larry, you wanna film this?”
“Fuck yeah, man!” exclaimed his partner, camera already recording.
“Now Susan,” explained Donna, pulling out Jena’s dildo with a slurp, “A cock is basically just like a dildo, except that it’s softer, warmer, and squirtier. Oh, and it’s usually attached to a guy.”
Susan looked on, bemused, as Donna’s nimble fingers began to work the Milind’s dark penis and it began to grow in her hands. When it reached it’s full length, Susan giggled and clapped.
“Now just lay back, Milind, while I show Susan the ropes,” Donna requested, and the film student lay back on the oak table.
“O.K., Susan, just crawl over here on top of Milind. That’s right. Now just ease yourself down onto it. Perfect!”
Donna guided the purple head of the dark shaft into her friend’s wet pussy. Susan made a noise of pleasant surprise and Milind grunted with satisfaction.
“That’s right!” exclaimed Donna. “Now squeeze with your pussy while you rock forward and back...great Susan! You’re doing great!”
Donna applauded her friend and gave her pointers as she road the young film student with more and more enthusiasm. The tiny brunette’s boobs bounced with abandoned until Milind grabbed hold and started to kneaded them expertly. The Indian watched with smiling wonder as the woman danced while impaled upon his shaft, but Susan’s eyes lingered only on her blonde friend who continued to cheer her on. After about fifteen minutes, Milind rolled his eyes, arched his back, and gave a triumphant howl. Susan slowed and stopped, looking confusedly at the man between her thighs and then looking to Donna.
“Is it over already?” she asked.
“I think I held out pretty well, all things considered,” objected Milind, seeking Donna’s approval.
Larry laughed and continued filming.
“You were fine, sweetie,” consoled Donna, stroking his shiny dark hair. “But Susan’s a slut just like me, and she needs more than any one man can give her. Men are like potato chips—one just isn’t enough! But you are definitely one of the best chips in the bag and if you’re up for it in a little while, I’d like to nibble on you myself!”
Donna snaked her tongue into the young man’s ear and succeeded in kissing his pride better. Then she turned to Susan and asked, “Wanna try Larry?”
“Oh fuck yes!” cried the cameraman. Susan giggled.
Donna and Susan proceeded through a tag team fuckfest then, doing their best to make sure that everyone of their guests had a good time at the party. Tom came to check up on them several times and praised them for their efforts to Donna’s delight but Susan’s annoyance. The reporter also routinely brought them more pills. He switched Donna to the blue ones that Susan was taking and soon both blonde and brunette were giggling so much that half the time they forgot to come.
In the wee hours of the morning when the crowd had thinned and the guests that were still conscious were unable to stand, Tom found the two women giggling on the floor and trying to coax a limp cock attached to a grinning, stoned biker into something usable.
“Well, Suzi, I see that you’ve truly broadened your horizons tonight,” said Tom in a mocking tone.
Susan looked up blearily. “Yeahbut I sill like girls the besss an you’re sill a fucking prick!” she declared.
Then extending her middle finger, Susan let her head slump into Donna’s breasts. Donna giggled and then joined her friend in unconsciousness.
The two women woke before the biker who had served as their mattress. Susan blinked hard, shook her head, then found focus on Donna who was watching her anxiously. The diminutive woman smiled a ‘good morning’ which was immediately reciprocated.
“Hey there gorgeous!” said Susan, then looking around at the ruins of the orgy, she sighed, giggled, and proclaimed “I am such a slut!”
Donna hugged her friend and kissed her warmly.
“You’re my favorite slut in the whole world!” she declared. “Wanna go take a shower?”
“Oh God yes!” answered Susan, then giggled, “I can’t believe I’m horny again already!”
They raced upstairs and soaped each other up until the hot water ran out. Then they made their way to Donna’s room. They kept her bedroom locked during the party, so they didn’t have hungover guests to disturb. This was for the best, as they tended to make quite a bit of noise as they satiated each other’s amplified needs.
Their lovemaking had reached a gentler phase and the two women lay stroking each other when Susan spoke in a hushed whisper.
“Donna, I don’t know what this Tom guy did to us or why, and to tell you the truth, I don’t care much right now. All I know for sure is that I love you, that I’ve loved you for years, and that I only want what’s best for you. And whatever this guy has planned for you, it isn’t good.”
Donna sighed and looked down.
“I...well...He’s not that bad, Susan. And, well, I just can’t help doing what he wants. I...”
“I can see that, Donna,” Susan interrupted. “That’s why I think you have to get away from him. We both do. We’ll just get in my car and go wherever you want or never stop at all—we could work as strippers and move from city to city! It’d be a great life, Donna. Please say you’ll come with me.”
Donna shuddered. There was the conflict again. She hated it! She wanted to do anything that would make Susan happy, but she knew that Tom would be angry if she left. He had told her repeatedly that she was not to leave the house without permission. Donna sighed and resolved herself to turn down Susan’s offer.
She knew she had made the right choice when Tom walked in. She didn’t want to think what might have happened had he caught her planning to leave him. She just hoped he hadn’t heard Susan.
“So this is where my little trollops have gone to!” he declared cheerfully, clutching his microphone. “And Suzi the Slut is all cleaned up and ready for her final treatment!”
“You’ve already turned me into a bimbo,” objected Susan. “What more do you want?”
“Well, now,” chuckled the man with the microphone, “I wouldn’t expect anyone without my genius to really understand it, but I am so enjoying the fact that you know what I’m doing to you, I’ll try to explain. With the first two treatments, in addition to the changes in the rest of your body, I’ve conditioned your mind by heightening sexual arousal and the subsequent pleasure that comes from sexual activity. This is actually relatively simple for a person of my intellect. The chief function of the pleasure centers of the brain is to promote sexual activity and drive procreation. It really is the most important function of the brain from an evolutionary perspective. So to make sex a constant driving force with intense euphoric reward really only takes a bit of tweaking on my part. Once the subject indulges their increased libido, it starts a positive feedback loop of pleasure and lust!”
“The complicated part comes in inducing devotion to me, your humble benefactor. One would think this would come naturally, but somehow people tend to need a little push. It’s a more difficult procedure, so I save it for the final treatment when the body’s resistance to my device has been broken. It’s quite complicated, but in effect I take advantage of the pack-forming instinct of the brain—a much less developed function than the sex-drive, but it suits my purpose.”
“By being the source of stimuli to the subject during the third treatment, I establish myself as alpha-male to the effected mind as I restore the atrophied pack instinct. At the same time, I link this segment of the brain with the further amplified sex-and-pleasure centers, so that any action against me threatens the stimuli that the subjects brain has become so very fond of.”
At this, Tom turned to Donna a smiled cruelly.
“Even now, when your slutty blonde friend realizes precisely what I’ve done to her, there’s still not a thing she can do to resist me, is there Donna? Do that and the wonderful feelings might go away!”
Donna shuttered, knowing it was true, knowing that she was helpless. Knowing she could only watch as her dearest friend would soon also be enthralled by this clearly evil man.
Tom turned back to Susan.
“And soon, my pretty whore, you’ll be just as driven to obey me. But that’s not all! I let the blonde bimbo keep enough brains that she wouldn’t be declared incompetent. But you, my dear, I am renovating in order to keep you from telling tales about me. So I think it will be best if we turn your already limited intellect into jello. In a few minutes, you’ll be dumber than DeeDee!”
“Donna, please!” cried Susan. “We have to run! I won’t leave without you, but we’ve got to go!”
“Donna,” commanded Tom sternly, “Hold her down while I do her.”
With a silent plea for forgiveness, Donna placed her hands on Susan’s shoulders and the small woman stiffened, then sank back unresisting as her friend and lover pushed her down against the bed and held her there at her master’s behest.
The reporter cackled and placed his microphone an inch in front of her nose so that her eyes crossed. He turned the device on with a click and her crossed-eyes went out of focus, a low warm sound coming from deep in her throat.
And then there was a loud pop.
Donna immediately looked to Tom, who was staring at his microphone in shock. Shock was over taken by barely controlled rage as he unscrewed the head and peered inside.
“Fuck!” he swore. “God damned fucking filament! That should have lasted another four hours at least!”
Susan giggled, and then spoke quite lucidly.
“Did Tommy break his toy?”
The enraged man ignored her, turned and roared, “DeeDEE!!!!”
The ditzy redhead scampered into the bedroom like a puppy. Her red mane curled down to her ankles.
“Yes Tom?” she asked enthusiastically.
“You goddamned stupid whore!” he shouted with vitriol, shaking the broken device at her. “You’ve been using it on yourself again, haven’t you?”
DeeDee giggled nervously and blushed.
“I’m sorry Tommy,” she said in a little-girl voice. “It just feels so yummy...”
The irate man struck the redhead hard with the back of his hand and sent her cowering into a corner, shaking.
“Do you have any concept of how expensive those things are to make?!?” he demanded. “That was my last fucking one!”
He advanced on the shaking, disturbed woman and began to kick her remorselessly, swearing incoherently, heedless of anything but his rage.
And seeing this hateful abuse of such a pathetic, harmless creature, something in Donna’s addled mind snapped. Picking up a ceramic lamp from the bedside, she brought it down hard on the abusive man’s head. Tom crumpled to the floor.
“Boys!” the liberated woman called to her bodyguard downstairs and in an instant the burly men were there. “Mr. Tragent is no longer welcome here. Throw him out. If he tries to come back, break his legs.”
The bouncers grinned wolfishly. None of them cared for Tom with his smug, condescending attitude. Two of them roughly hauled the stunned man to his feet.
“But...but ..you can’t!” Tom stammered, disbelieving, trying to clear his head.
“Like hell I can’t!” said Donna and kicked him squarely in the nuts. “Fucking prick!”
Gasping for air, Tom was hoisted by his arms and legs and carried downstairs. One bodyguard held open the door and the two which held Tom flung him face-first onto the icy walkway. He lay there groaning as it began to rain. The door slammed and locked behind him.
Donna sighed after seeing that the trash had been properly disposed of. Her loyalty to Tom destroyed, the euphoria was not diminished but rather amplified now that it didn’t have to struggle against the moral dilemmas that had plagued her. She felt good...really, really good.
She giggled, kissed each of her hunky bodyguards, and scampered up the stairs.
There in the guest room, DeeDee and Susan were both in the bed. Susan was kissing the redhead’s injuries gently, the rest of her less gently. DeeDee’s fingers were deeply entrenched in her wet snatch and if she was in pain, it certainly wasn’t her primary concern at the moment.
When Donna returned, the two women looked up, Susan with love, DeeDee with something closer akin to awe.
“I love you, Susan!” Donna declared.
“Really?” asked Susan, looking small and fragile.
“Really,” affirmed Donna, then joined the two women in her bed in a gentle creciendo of passion.
“Can we keep her?” Susan asked Donna as the two friends looked lazily at the sleeping form of DeeDee curled up at their feet on the edge of the bed. The ditzy redhead had a contented expression that Donna had only seen on a well-fed golden retriever before.
“Of course we can,” said Donna. “Where else would she go?”
They sighed and kissed.
“Susan....What happened?” asked the blonde woman.
“You kicked that bastard’s ass, that’s what!” declared Susan with fierce pride.
“But how? It’s not like I reversed what he did to me. I’m as happy and horny as ever! I don’t have any compulsion to do what Tom tells me, but I’m still a slut.”
The brunette screwed her face up in thought, then smiled with comprehension.
“But now your the alpha slut!” she declared.
“The alpha slut?”
“Yeah, it makes perfect sense! There are changes in leadership all the time in a pack or a herd. If that’s the part of the brain he was using to control you, then of course you could break it! You defeated him and assumed the leadership role. It certainly explains DeeDee’s reaction. She worships you now!”
“The alpha-slut” Donna giggled. “I think I like that!”
“Like I first told you back when your idiot husband was running for Mayor,” said Susan, “You were born to lead. In any situation, you always end up pulling the strings. You know, I bet you could win that senate seat even now.”
Donna looked at her friend with a growing grin.
“You know, I think I could too. Do you know where I’m polling at?”
“Nine percent, last time I checked.”
“Well, we’ve got a whole seven days! I’m sure we can win! People like me!”
The two women giggled.
“Of course, Donna, you realize that it’s that microphone that makes us feel so optimistic. Last month, I wasn’t even happy with an eighteen point lead!”
“Yeah, but American’s love an optimist!” declared Donna, “And they love sex and scandal and general naughtiness! I’m the perfect candidate!”
Donna shook the sleeping redhead at their feet awake.
“You’d vote for me, wouldn’t you DeeDee?” asked the candidate.
“Yeah!” she declared with an excited grin.
“See,” said Donna to Susan, “And the average voter really isn’t much smarter than DeeDee!”
The three women giggled.
“You go girl!” said Susan.
Thus began the ‘Send a Slut to Washington’ campaign. Susan was reinstated as campaign manager while DeeDee was happy to be promoted to morale officer. Susan quickly pointed out that Donna’s old campaign commercials were still running, at half a million dollars a day, putting forth an image that Donna really didn’t want to project anymore. Susan called the TV and radio stations and had them pull the spots, promising new commercials by the next day.
Then the three liberated bimbos dressed up and headed to Boston University. Milind and Larry were delighted to be recruited.
The three women had tremendous fun making up add spots, but in the end none of them would pass FCC restrictions. Even the ones were they kept their close on could never be shown on network TV or even basic cable. Then Donna had an idea. The resulting add went something like this.
Donna sat on a chair in a tight red dress, her legs crossed so that the short skirt rode up enough to show the tops of her stockings. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, just careful enough that the status of her underwear remained a mystery.
“Hi! My name is Donna Travers. No doubt you’ve heard a lot about me. People say I’m a slut, a bimbo, a nymphomaniac, a sex-crazed trollop.”
Close up on Donna’s face, her make-up perfect, her hair wild. She licks her lips suggestively.
“Well it’s true. I’m a slut. I’m a bimbo. And I’m proud of it.”
Back to first camera. Donna bends forward revealing a generous amount of cleavage, then stands up and walks over to a picture of the capitol building on an easel. Camera follows her ass.
“For years, American’s have been sending tired old men to Washington. And what have they really accomplished? Not much. You know who really makes things happens? The bimbos!”
“For years, the bimbo has been a driving force behind American politics. The fate of this nation has been changed by such famous bimbos as Fanne Fox, Megan Marshak, Elizabeth Ray, Paula Parkinson, Donna Rice, and Monica Lewinski, not to mention the countless bimbos working behind the scenes to make our government what it is today! The time has come for the bimbos to step forward and run things out in the open!”
“My fellow citizens of Massachusetts , the 1998 congress spent the bulk of it’s energy discussing the president’s blow job. Don’t you think it would be better for the State of Massachusetts if your representatives had been the ones blowing the president?”
Donna licks her lips.
“Send me to Washington D.C., and just watch how the feds fall all over themselves trying to make me happy. And nothing would make me happier than to see them working hard for the best interests of Massachusetts.
“So the choice is clear: If you want more of the same, send a tired old man back to do nothing.”
Donna places her fists on her hips and thrusts her breasts out proudly.
“But if you want someone who will shake up Washington and get you what you want, send a slut!”
As soon as it was done, Susan took several copies and two of the bodyguards and rushed off to the TV stations, promising to meet them back at Donna’s house. Donna and DeeDee had another mission. It seemed a pity to waste all the rejected adds just because they got a little naked. So Milind and Larry took them over to the computer science department. Everyone there was delighted to meet Donna and DeeDee and after some extensive flirting, they happily agreed to put their adds on the web. By the time the last one was on line, the first one was getting hits world wide.
When the party crowd arrived at Donna’s place that night, they were at first chagrined to find their hostess sober with intentions of putting them to work. Once she explained that the liquor would still flow, however, most agreed to pitch in. Soon they were making signs, bumper stickers, and T-shirts with such slogans as ‘Send A Slut To Washington: Vote Travers’, ‘Donna Travers: She Puts Out For You!’, and ‘All Politicians Screw Their Constituents—With Donna Travers, You’ll Enjoy It!’.
The next day, Donna found where the tour bus had been abandoned. A couple of graffiti artists that were party regulars volunteered to repaint it for her. Soon the campaign took to the road again with a huge picture of Donna in a red bustier and stockings sprawled across the side with ‘Send a Slut to Washington’ arching over her.
They traveled across the state of Massachusetts, followed by groupies and the delighted press. Everywhere Donna went, she always had her two trusted advisors with her. At Susan’s suggestion, Donna always wore red, while DeeDee and Susan were clad in white and blue respectively. Arrayed in their nations colors, they never failed to inspire a swell of patriotism, or at least a swell of something.
And the poll numbers actually stared to climb. Not by much, but some people, at least were convinced. As one member of the public remarked on the eleven o’clock news, Wilson was just as much of a whore and not nearly as good looking or motivated. By election day, opinion polls still gave the incumbent Wilson the lion’s share of the vote, 72%, the Democrat-supported write-in candidate Whitehead at 8% and Donna at 20%. At least if you only counted the ten percent of the population who said that they intended to vote in the election. But the transformed trio literally couldn’t help but be optimistic.
During her whirlwind tour across the state, Donna had picked up so many followers that returning to her house wasn’t feasible. Instead, Susan and DeeDee sucked off the entire management of a Boston convention center so that they could bring their raucous supporters there for an election-night orgy.
Donna had been so busy during that last week, between speeches, interviews, strip-teases, and orgies, that she really hadn’t taken the time to relax except for a few minutes between orgasms. Now that the day was here, she slipped easily again into party mode—not getting as plastered as Tom had always encouraged her to be, but nicely toasted. Susan was there with her, looking lovely as ever, her love and friendship evident in everything she did. DeeDee was ever-present, always trying to be helpful and delighted at any sign of approval. Donna was surrounded by a throng of people who adored her and if time permitted, she was going to screw every single one of them. But no one could tell her where, how, or in which order.
Yes, she thought, win or lose, life was good.
Dr. Thomas L. Cosgrave, biophysicist and self-proclaimed smartest man on earth, hunched gleefully over the make-shift lab bench that he had constructed in the shower of a Super 8 motel near Logan airport. Nearly $2000-worth of chemicals, purchased with the cash Wilson had paid to fuck his opponent, bubbled in a beaker on a hot plate. He had carefully controlled and varied the temperature for five days there in his impromptu lab and at last the solution had reached that magical moment when the organic component polymerized at the same instance that the metallic component crystallized.
Soon he would have another batch of filaments and he could them use his device to earn enough to tide him over until the senator could deliver. He was disappointed at the loss of his microphone, but the other components were common and no one without his genius would understand it’s mechanisms without the wondrous filament that he alone could produce.
He was in a fine mood, the best he’d been in since his discourteous dismissal by Donna Travers. It had been so delightful watching the tipsy trollop dancing half naked on television as the exit polls rolled in giving the race decidedly to Wilson. When he had turned off the idiot box at nine to concentrate on the final stages of his filament, the press had named the incumbent the winner and yet still the blonde bimbo frolicked about making a fool of herself. Tom couldn’t wait until she finally realized that she had lost, the money ran out, her supporters abandoned her, and she had no choice but to sell herself cheep on the streets.
As he delicately teased the filament out of solution, using a thin glass rod as a focal point, Cosgrave envisioned his bright future. With his lab fully funded, he could once again do some serious research. There must be a way to induce absolute obedience using his technology and he would find it no matter how many test subjects he had to fry. Then, if Travers wasn’t dead yet, he’d find her and make her his bitch with none of the induced pleasure.
And DeeDee. Tom grinned. First, he was going to find a way to reverse what he’d done to her. Then he was going to do it all over again. Much more slowly this time. He could make her suffering last a year before she went catatonic if he was careful.
He had let his mind wander as he slowly pulled the precious filament out of solution. Thus, when his phone rang, the disruption caused a minute jerk of his hand and the the translucent thread slipped from the rod and sank back into the beaker.
“Fuck!” the scientist swore, then mixed the solution gently and raised the temperature ten degrees, It would be ready again in the morning. All through the salvage procedure, the phone continued to annoy him. At last, he swore again and answered it.
“You stupid goddamned fucker,” said his cell phone.
“Wilson?” said Cosgrave, his poisonous reprimand cut off by one of greater vitriol. “Wilson, what’s wrong?”
“The slut won, you bastard!” screamed the senator.
“What? No...No! That’s impossible! Who the hell would vote for her? They said on the news that you won!”
Tom was shocked. How could this possibly have happened? He staggered to the television and turned it on. There was the blonde bimbo being bounced around topless on the shoulders of two burly men, no doubt posing a challenge to the poor slob who had to blur out the candidates boobs in the broadcast. The news anchor was recounting how, in the lowest voter turn out in state history, Donna Travers had won the senate seat with 42% of the vote. Attempts by reporters to get a statement from the Honorable Topless Senator from Massachusetts yielded only hoots of triumph or giggles.
“Fuck, " said Tom.
Apparently perverts do vote—and they also lie to pollsters.
He hung up on the unemployed man who was yelling threats he could never carry out and sank down onto the motel bed.
“Damn me for a fool!” Dr. Cosgrave muttered to himself. “I had to go and try this in a state that has consistently elected Kennedys for the past five decades.”
Well, he’d have another filament in the morning. There were people out there who would pay for his services, distasteful though he found contracting out his genius like a common whore. All he wanted was for his research to be funded and not to have to answer to some lesser intellect. Was it truly so much to ask? There had to be a way to get the money he needed without having to be someone’s employee. And he, Dr. Thomas L. Cosgrave would find it.
He was, after all, a genius.