Chapter 1

Donna Travers was in the small town of South Carver, 4/5ths of the way through her avowed goal to visit every county in Massachusetts. She had spent a somewhat productive evening talking to the chamber of commerce about her proposed small business legislation. Now she had only to face the press corps that had been following her and she could get a well-deserved night's sleep. Her campaign was really coming to a head and she was quite happy and enthusiastic. It would be so great to have kicked that bastard Wilson out on his keester.

She stepped out of the chamber of commerce building and was swarmed by the reporters, all jockeying for position to get their microphone closest to her face. It was so silly--why couldn't they all agree to just use one mic and share the audio? They inevitably all ended up using the same quotes anyway. There was a new one today--a tall man with a bushy moustache. His microphone read 'What'sNew.Com'. Oh well, she supposed she should be grateful for the coverage.

The reporters shouted out their usual barrage of questions, a few about her proposed legislation, most about her opponents long list of scandals and rumors of impropriety. The former she answered at length, the later she quelled with a smug 'No Comment'. The 'Honorable' Mr. Wilson could easily hang himself without her having to get her hands dirty.

The new guy didn't have any questions. No doubt one of those many little internet news sites that touted speed more than content. He'd probably have a ten second quote online ten minutes after the press conference was over. As lackadaisical as he was about asking questions though, he certainly was competing for microphone space--his oversized mic was constantly in her face, all the more so since he never brought it back to ask a question. It was getting annoying, especially combined with the way he kept grinning at her with that cheesy moustache. Maybe it was that distraction which was making her feel so disoriented. Her head felt fuzzy and her normally crisp answers were coming out somewhat muddled. It seemed very warm all of a sudden. Thankfully, Susan, her campaign manager, saw that she was in trouble and called off the press, whisking her away to the hotel where they would spend the night.

"Thanks, Susan" she said as they drove off. "I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was."

"Well, a good night sleep will do you good," consoled Susan. "Just three more weeks and then you can relax until January, when you'll be sworn in as the junior senator from Massachusetts!"

"That'll be good," said Donna, more about the relaxing than about her new job.

She still felt very warm and a little dizzy when she was at last alone in her hotel room. So warm, in fact, that once she had her clothing off, she decided to forgo her nightgown and sleep in the buff. She smiled at her naked self in the mirror. She still looked pretty good for forty three. She had a coif of blonde hair which she kept short and business-like, piercing blue eyes, a firm chin that was strong without being mannish. It was a face that told everyone that she was born to lead. Who knows, a couple of terms in the senate and she might aim for the oval office.

Her body had held up pretty well also. She was as lithe and slim as she had been when her late husband first ran for mayor.

A little giggle escaped her lips as the thought occurred to her that she was seeing the future president of the United States stark naked.

"You look awfully sexy tonight, Madam President" she said.

She kept herself fit and trim, swimming a mile each morning. Her small breasts were still perky. Tonight, they seemed perkier than normal, her nipples ridged despite how warm she felt. Come to think of it, they looked as firm as they'd been when she was 18. And they seemed fuller somehow. She reached up and gave them a tentative squeeze. Sparks shot through her body and she gasped. She couldn't remember ever being this sensitive. Something odd was definitely happening to her. But she felt so warm and sleepy that she didn't want to worry about it right now. There would be time to figure it out in the morning.

She stripped the blankets off the bed and slipped between the satin sheets. The soft fabric felt glorious against her skin. The slight dizziness she had felt since the press conference, while annoyingly distracting when she had to speak, now felt delicious. She imagined that she was floating in a warm tropical lagoon, being gently rocked by soft waves. Soon she was asleep.

She dreamed. In the dream, she was a cave girl with long tousled hair and large jutting breasts, barely covered by an animal skin, like something out of a really bad movie. She felt hot and bestial, like a wild cat in heat. Two big hairy cave men were fighting for the right to take her and fuck her brains out. She was so horny and she wanted them to hurry up and do her. Suddenly, she knew what to do. She ripped off her animal skins and strode boldly between the two men They turned to her in surprise and with an earthy grunt, she grabbed hold of both of their sweaty cocks and began to fondle and stroke them. Both became instantly hard and she fell to her knees, turning to one meaty cock which she began to lick and suck while she raised her hips and indicated to the other man to start fucking her. Happily, he obliged. He slammed into her and pounded and ground while she did her best to swallow the huge member in front of her.

She half awoke and her skin was on fire. She felt so deliciously slutty. Her hair felt soft and sensual against her face, the soft sheets were rubbing against her hard nipples, her strong thighs pressed together, her snatch hot and wet between them, aching to be touched. Her hand snaked down her body, down her stomach, and gently probed her burning pussy. She let loose a little moan. It felt so good! She began to rub harder and harder. Soon a finger slipped into her soft, wet hole, followed by another, and she began to rhythmically push them in and out, her hips eagerly rising to meet them. Meanwhile, her other hand roamed across her body, finally coming to rest on her right breast. It felt huge in her small hand, but squeezing it felt so good that she gave little thought to its size. She gasped and moaned as she pulled roughly at the nipple, her other hand working furiously at her snatch. She imagined herself being fondled and fucked by dozens of big, sweaty men, there mouths, hands and cocks all over her. At last she climaxed with the most massive orgasm she had ever had and she screamed out in ecstasy, then collapsed on the bed in a thought-free warm fog. She was reluctantly pulled out of it by frantic knocking at the door. She stumbled out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her as an afterthought. She opened the door. It was Susan.

"Donna, are you all right? Jeff heard you scream."

The look of panic and concern on her friends face finally brought her fully awake and, realizing what she had just done, she blushed furiously. She was even more embarrassed that her bodyguard had heard her--but she couldn't help wondering, just for a moment, if it had turned him on. An image of the big nordic-looking man naked and hard flashed through her mind and she wanted nothing so much as to go back to bed for an encore.

"I... I'm fine Susan. Uhhh... Bad dream. Sorry. G'nite."

"Donna, it's 9 a.m. You have to meet with the league of women Voters in Bridgewater in two hours. We have to go!"

Her campaign manager suddenly got a perplexed look on her face.

"Donna, what happened to your hair?"

Donna then realized that the hair that kept falling into her face shouldn't be there. She kept it cut quite short. She rushed to the mirror. Her hair had grown at least six inches over night. In her shock, she dropped the sheet and was met with another surprise. Her breasts jutted out proudly from her chest, at least three times the size they had been when she went to bed last night. She reached up to touch them and once again found herself kneading them, blood rushing to her head and pussy. It was an effort to let go.

"My God, Susan!" she exclaimed. "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know, Donna." her campaign manager said with more than a little fear in her voice. "I... I'll cancel your appointments for today. You should see a doctor."

Donna thought about that. The press always made such a big deal about health problems during election time. And she had to meet with the teamsters this afternoon. They still hadn't endorsed either candidate. Not that she really needed to garner more votes, but she wanted the satisfaction of burying Senator Wilson by as large a margin as possible. And she didn't feel ill--she actually felt better than she had in a while.

"No, Susan," she said. "I've got to meet with the teamsters. Labor is one of my key issues. Rosa can fix my hair on the way to Bridgewater and we can find something to hide... these. If it gets any worse, I'll see a doctor tomorrow."

Susan conceded and helped pick out one of Donna's bulkiest jackets to go over her loosest blouse, which now stretched tightly across her swollen bosom. If the swelling didn't go down, she was going to need a whole new wardrobe. Oh well, the senate gig paid pretty well.

They packed up and piled into the RV that served as their mobile headquarters. Rosa, Donna Travers hairdresser cum image consultant, was absolutely astounded at her hair growth and was quick to notice her growth elsewhere. As they drove, the stylist pulled out the tools of her trade and soon had Travers' hairdo returned to its short business-style. She did her make-up and even offered one of her bras. Donna gratefully accepted, drew the curtains closed, and stripped to the waist. Her nipples were still protruding and it was tempting to pull on them, but she resisted and tried on Rosa's pale pink bra. It was a 36C and, to Donna's amazement, it fit her perfectly. She had worn a 34A yesterday. She had no idea what was happening to her body but at least this should help hide her... problem for now.

They got to the town of Bridgewater and Susan went in to the meeting hall to make sure that everything was set up for Donna's speech. Donna waited in the alcove, going over her notes one last time. She still found it hard to concentrate, but she was feeling very confident. She saw that Susan was arguing with the man from 'What'sNew.com' over by the podium...

Susan stormed back to where Donna waited.

"Asshole" muttered Susan.

"What's up?" asked the candidate.

"Oh, Mr. Internet over there says he has a special mike that makes for a clearer broadcast over the net and he wants to set it up at the podium. Probably just wants his logo on any photographs, but I don't have the time to argue with him. Hope you don't mind."