Chapter 2

Prologue:

Dr. Cosgrave was in his mobile lab, adjusting his equipment, when the phone rang. It was Wilson. The senator was dissatisfied with the progress of their scheme.

"Patience, Senator, patience. Ms. Travers still needs one more treatment and already there are rumors circulating. Her staff seems to be keeping her under control so far but that really won't be possible after the third treatment. Not unless they want to keep her under sedation for the rest of the campaign, in which case you can probably still win. Avoiding the press may be a successful strategy in North Carolina, but people in Massachussettes want to see their politicians."

Wilson continued to whine and Dr. Cosgrave rolled his eyes.

"Look, Senator, I'll give her the third treatment as soon as possible and after it takes effect, I'll take a more hands-on roll in destroying her political career. This last treatment will not only push her libido up another notch and leave her looking like a centerfold, I've also added something I worked out on DeeDee that will make her want to follow my every sugestion."

Wilson was intrigued and made a stupid proposal.

"If I have her withdraw from the campaign, her party will just put someone else in her place and you will still loose. My objective here is to get you elected, Senator. I want my research grant! I don't want you running against anyone but the drunken whore that Donna Travers will be by the end of the week."

Dr. Cosgrave hung up before the senator could make another assinine comment. Things were going perfectly. Just one more treatment and Donna Travers would go from up and coming politician to down and cuming bimboslut!

Donna, Susan and Jeff made it back to Boston late that night after the meeting with the Teemsters and went straight to Donna's Beacon Hill home. They had lost the press, probably for as long as they needed since the official schedule didn't have them back in Boston for two more days. Susan insisted on staying in the guest room and taking Donna to the clinic in the morning. She didn't want to risk anyone else being exposed to the candidate in her present condition.

Jeff was going to take a taxi home, but he lived an hour away in Pinehurst and Donna insisted that he stay in the other guest room. Susan decided that was probably a good idea. The young bodyguard had proven very resourceful that night and he might prove useful in getting Donna to the clinic discretely. They all went to their respective rooms, two of them, at least, feeling exhausted from the days events. Donna, however, was still bubbling with excitement over how the the truck drivers had taken to her.

Donna felt vindicated in the morning when Susan burst in with the newspaper.

"Check it out, Donna!" she cried happily, pointing to the headline that read 'TEAMSTERS ENDORSE TRAVERS'. The campaign manager's happiness was added to by the fact that Donna had no more hair or boobs than she had last night. She was also showing a modicum of modesty, holding the sheet over her enlarged mammaries with a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"I told you everything would be fine!" said Donna. "The boys really like me, and it doesn't hurt to give them a little thrill. If you've got it, flaunt it!"

Susan sighed.

"Don't kid yourself, Donna," she chided. "We got lucky. If the religious right had seen you last night, they'd be calling to have you stoned. And the press isn't all good. Some of the ladies at the League of Women Voters were really offended, though your speech doesn't even get mentioned until page eight. But worst of all, there's an article speculating over your change in appearance. They got pictures of you going in to see the teamsters, though not coming out, thank God!

Donna pouted. "I think my hair looks nice," she protested. "And my boobies are pretty too and they feel good!"

Susan sighed, a look of sympathy and concern replacing the stern one.

"I know it might seem that way, Donna" she said, taking her hand, "But you just haven't been yourself lately. It's not just your body that's been changing. You've been acting... odd. If Dr. Wang can't identify what's wrong with you, I really think you should see a psychiatrist."

"But I feel fine, Susan!" objected Donna, "More than fine. I feel great! I have so much energy lately. Why, you should have seen me last night! I was..."

There was a chocking sound from the adjoining bathroom. Susan looked aghast.

"Donna," she said pointedly, "who is in the bathroom?"

Her question was answered by the door opening to reveal Jeff, looking exhausted and very ashamed.

"You son of a bitch," Susan exclaimed in a low, deadly voice. "How could you? Can't you see that she's sick?"

"I... I'm sorry," stammered the bodyguard. "She, well, she said that... um... I'm sorry."

"Oh don't be mad at Jeffy!" exclaimed Donna, "He was so wonderful! And I needed it so bad! I've been so horny lately and my fingers just haven't been enough. Don't be mad at him. I made him do it. I made him do it again and again and again and it was so great! God, Susan, you should try him!"

Susan shook her head and turned back to Jeff.

"Get your pants on and get out." she said coldly.

"Yes ma'am" said Jeff, eyes down cast. "Sorry. Sorry Mrs. Travers. I... Goodbye."

Then he was gone, leaving the two women alone. Donna pouted. She was getting horny again already.

"Donna," said Susan, gentle but firm, "We really can't afford a scandal right now. The reason your doing so well is that so many conservatives are disgusted with Wilson's philandering. If the press finds out that you're screwing a man half your age, they'll go back to Wilson. I know it's not fair, but the public is always more willing to forgive men for sexual pecadillos than women."

"I know that, Susan!" defended the candidate, "God, do you think I'm stupid? That's why I chose Jeff. I knew that he could be discrete. And I just had to do something. I'm so horny I could die!"

Susan sighed again, feeling very, very tired.

"Well, let's get you to the doctor and hopefully he can help you," she said. "Let's see, what can you wear?"

They took Susan's car and went to the small private clinic where Donna's primary care physician, Dr. Stewart Wang, had his practice. Donna had tied her hair back and wore a large winter coat over a bulky sweatshirt that had belonged to her husband. The bright Autumn morning was not particularly cold, but Susan had insisted.

Susan waited in the lobby and the nurse lead Donna back to the examining room. The nurse, Jena, had recently started at the clinic and apparently didn't follow politics enough to recognize Donna Travers. She just took her vitals and chatted with her about nothing in particular, then told her that the doctor would be with her shortly. Donna could have sworn that the woman was checking her out, her eyes lingering on Donna's large breasts. Donna wasn't sure how she felt about that.

The nurse left and Donna sat on the examination table waiting for Dr. Wang. Dr. Wang. Funny that she after four years with him as her physician, she had just now noticed that his name was synonymous with cock. She giggled at the thought.

She'd never been with an Asian man. She wondered if their cocks were distinctive. A warm glow began to build within her as she contemplated the many possibilities. How yummy it would be to play with Dr. Wang's wang!

But Susan had said she needed to be discrete. And she was right, of course. A politician had to be careful who she fucked. She could indulge her libido, as most of her male counterparts did, as long as it didn't get dragged out before the public. Yes, discretion was the key. But god-almighty she was horny.

And a doctor-patient relationship was supposed to be confidential, right? What could be more discrete than that? Yes. the good doctor would be just what she needed. Donna stripped off the sweat shirt, exposing her swollen mammaries and pinched her nipples until they were good and hard. Then she ran her fingers through her hair, leaned back and practiced sultry looks and pouts. The good doctor wouldn't know what hit him.

Dr. Wang came in reading a clipboard.

"Good morning, Mrs. Travers. It says here that you have some swelling in your br... Holy Shit!"

The physician gawked and Donna chuckled.

"Ah... um..." stammered the young doctor, trying to regain his composure. "Sorry. You didn't have to take off your top yet. Would you like an examination gown?"

"Oh no, doctor" said his patient. "I'm quite comfortable. And after all, you're here to see these, aren't you?"

Donna hefted her large breasts and presented them to him. She was delighted to see his eyes widen.

"Um, yes. Well. When did this start?"

"Well, I first noticed it yesterday morning," explained Donna. "My hair and boobies kept growing all day yesterday, but they seemed to have stopped. Susan, my campaign manager, is really worried about it, but I don't know why. I figure I just developed a little late in life. I look great and I feel marvelous, so why question it?"

The doctor looked incredulous.

"So quickly? And there hasn't been any pain or discomfort?" inquired the physician.

"Oh no!" Donna denied. "They feel wonderful. And I feel great! I'm just a little... randy... if you know what I'm saying."

"Hmmm," said Dr. Wang, trying to be professional despite his initial shock. "That's very... unusual. It's a good thing you came, though. It could be the first symptoms of something more serious. I'm going to have to examine you."

"Of course you will, Dr. Wang," said Donna, spreading her arms wide, throwing her head back and thrusting out her chest. "Examine away!"

Donna was disappointed to feel the physician's hands at her throat, having expected that he would go straight for her boobs. They were nice hands, though, and they felt good as they palpated under her jaw line and along her neck. Then his hands were in her armpits, probing and prodding. This wasn't nearly as enjoyable as Donna had hoped.

"Your glands and lymph nodes don't seem to be swollen at all," observed Dr. Wang, perplexed. "Have you had a fever or any other illness recently?"

"Well, I have been feeling awfully warm lately," Donna confessed. "In fact, I'm feeling very, very warm right now, doctor."

The look she gave him did nothing to help his composure. He retreated to his clipboard on the table. From the way he shuffled, Donna could tell he was suffering from a stiffy. She smiled.

"The nurse didn't report a fever," said Dr. Wang. "And you don't feel hot. But maybe we should take your temperature again."

"Dr. Wang," chided Donna, "I'm not here because of a fever, I'm here because my boobies got bigger all of a sudden. Aren't you going to take a look at them?"

"Yes, well... Yes, I suppose that is necessary," said the doctor.

He placed his hands on her enlarged breasts and she let out a sigh of contentment. At last. His nibble fingers probed the firm tissue. His palm brushed against her left nipple and Donna let out a low moan and bit her lower lip.

"I'm sorry," apologized the doctor, "Is it painful?"

"Oh no, doctor!" replied Donna. "It feels really, really gooood!"

As she said this, she rubbed a knee up his inner thigh until she found the hard mass of his cock. His eyes widened.

"You have great hands, doctor."

"Mrs. Travers, I really don't think..." the physician began, taking his hands from her breasts.

"Hey!" protested Donna, grabbing his hands and pushing them firmly against her mammaries, "You're not done with my examination. You have to feel me. You have to rub me all over."

She rubbed his hands against her engorged nipples and half-reluctant, his hands began to massage her of their own accord. She leaned into them and reached down with one hand to stroke his now completely engorged cock through his dark slacks. The physician swallowed hard.

"Mrs. Travers, this... this really isn't appropriate," he managed.

"Oh, I'm not going to tell anyone, Dr. Wang," she said giving his member a squeeze, "A doctor-patient relationship is confidential. No one has to know. It'll be our dirty little secret."

At this, she leaned in and licked his neck, then attached her mouth to it and sucked hard.

"Mrs. Travers!" protested the doctor, pushing her back.

"Oh, please," she said, nonplused and continuing her advance, "Call me Donna! And I'll call you Stewart. Or would you rather I call you Dr. Wang? I could pretend to be one of your hot little nurses and you could do me right here on the table. Doesn't that sound just yummy?"

She was on her feet now, pressing herself against the retreating physician. She reached behind and grabbed his firm buttocks and pulled their groins together. She ground herself against him, feeling every inch of his cock through the clothing as she rubbed her bare breasts against his shirt.

"Mrs. Travers..." he began.

"Donna," she reminded.

"Donna," he conceded, "I... I think that what ever is wrong with you is affecting your judgment. And your libido."

"Lucky me," said Donna "But if it's effecting my libido, don't you think you should examine my pussy?"

She grabbed the doctor's wrist and tried to force his hand down the front of her pants. He resisted though. Donna couldn't understand why he didn't just take her. She knew that he wanted her.

At last he pushed her away and in a flash had a stool between them.

"Mrs. Travers, you are clearly very ill," exclaimed the distraught physician. "I'm going to give you a sedative that should calm your... your urges. And I'm going to order some blood tests. The nurse will be in shortly to draw blood. Until we have the results, you need to take the sedative and get some rest."

"The only thing I need is that hard rod between your legs," objected Donna, beside herself with unsated lust and angry at the physician's lack of cooperation.

"I... I'm sorry" said the doctor. "I... I just can't. It wouldn't be right."

And then he was gone, leaving Donna alone and frustrated and feeling very sorry for herself.

The nurse came back and drew blood. She, at least, appreciated Donna's breasts. But Donna was so frustrated by Dr. Wang's rejection and so unaccustomed to thinking of women as a sexual option that she didn't do anything about it.

When she came back to the lobby, Dr. Wang was talking to Susan, but he hurriedly left as soon as he saw her. Susan was disappointed that they still didn't know what was happening but was glad of the prescription and order of bed rest. Donna just sulked and headed for the car. Susan followed.

They stepped out of the clinic and were immediately swarmed by a horde of reporters, many more than usually covered her campaign. Susan looked panicked--Donna had forgotten her coat!

The reporter with the bushy moustache reached Donna first and his big microphone was right in her face, soon joined by a dozen others. Donna was a little upset by the mob, but not nearly as much as Susan. After all, reasoned Donna, what did she have to be ashamed of? Her body was beautiful. Why should she try to hide it? Seeing all the microphones pushing towards her, the 'WhatsNew.com' one predominant by its size, she found herself wondering if the size of a man's microphone was proportional to the size of his dick. God she was horny.

They were all shouting out questions, even Mr. Big Mic. It was hard to tell what they were saying with all the shouting. She looked out across the sea of reporters and cameramen. It felt dream-like. She felt dizzy.

Susan was shouting now and some of the microphones turned toward her. But not the big one.

"I get the big one," Donna thought and she giggled.

"Mrs. Travers is not feeling well," Susan was saying. "Please, just let us go. We'll have a press conference tomorrow."

"I feel fine, thank you" said Donna in a dreamy voice.

"What's wrong with her?" shouted a reporter. They were finally calming down enough to ask one question at a time.

"We won't know that until tomorrow," said Susan. "They have to run tests. We'll tell you then."

"Mrs. Travers, is it true that you recently had breast augmentation surgery?"

It was Mr. Big Mic. Susan loudly denied it, but attention was back on Donna. All those microphones. All those long, hard microphones.

"No, I didn't have a boob job," denied Donna. "They just kinda grew. All of a sudden. My boobies got really big. They're nice."

Everyone was looking at her boobs. It felt good. They were taking pictures of them. She knew that everyone wanted to touch them. God it was warm. Why did she have to wear this damned sweatshirt? She pulled at the bottom It tightened across her chest. Cameras flashed. So dizzy.

The reporters continued to shout out questions. Did she change her appearance to attract male voters? Did she think she could maintain the respect of of the other congress persons? Some one in the back asked if she was wearing a bra. Donna tried to answer questions, but she felt so confused and oh so very warm. Forming a coherent sentence was nearly impossible. Susan just kept shouting to leave them alone and let them go.

The clinic security, consisting of three unarmed men, tried to help the two women but found it very difficult to do anything about the mob. Eventually, they pushed their way to Donna and Susan and then, surrounding them, pushed their way slowly to Susan's car. Susan drove away furiously, nearly hitting a camera man in the process.

"Fuck!" said Susan as she drove. "Fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck!"

Donna thought that sounded like a great idea. She dreamily slipped a hand down the front of her pants.

When they got to Donna's home, Susan was even more angry, mostly because the woman she had tied her career to refused to see just how much trouble they were in. Susan told her to go and take the sedative the doctor had given her while she made some phone calls. She had fires to put out and Donna would be more helpful unconscious.

Donna gladly agreed; She was feeling very sleepy. She went to her room and stripped off the hot sweatshirt. Her breasts bounced happily in their freedom. They were very pretty boobs. Why did Susan want her to hide them?

Pants and panties followed the sweatshirt and the Democratic candidate for Senate in Massachusetts flopped naked onto her nice soft bed. She was asleep before she remembered that she was supposed to take a sedative.

She dreamed. She was an actress on the set of a movie. The reporter with the bushy moustache was the director. The set consisted of a bunch of gym equipment and for a moment Donna thought it was an exercise video, but then she saw that she was naked except for a sweatband, a pair of leg warmers and gym shoes. Sweat glistened of her massive breasts and she realized it was a porno.

The director was explaining that in this scene, Susan was going to play her personal trainer. Then Susan was there, and the campaign manager's costume was more elaborate. The tiny brunette wore an outfit that was all black leather straps and shiny stainless steel rings. Her legs were clad in high heeled black leather boots that reached up to mid thigh. In her hand was a riding crop. At her crotch was a big black strap-on dildo.

Her campaign manager smiled. "Are you ready for the show?" she asked.

Then the director yelled 'Action!' and Susan's face went cold.

"On your knees, bitch!" she yelled and Susan complied, terrified. "You want a work out, do you? Well I'll work you harder than any man ever could."

She grabbed a fist full of Donna's long blonde hair and pulled roughly so that she went down on her hands, her massive breasts brushing the floor.

"You're bad, Donna!" Susan scolded, swatting her naked ass. "You're a nasty little slut, aren't you?"

"Yes" squeaked out Donna.

"What?" demanded Susan, "I can't hear you!"

"I'm a slut!" shouted Donna. "I'm a skanky slut!"

It felt so good to admit it.

"And what do sluts do, slut?" asked her trainer.

"They fuck!" responded Donna. It was all so clear.

"So what do you want to do, slut?"

"I wanna fuck!" shouted Donna. "Fuck me, mistress, fuck me!"

And then Susan was behind her and the big black dildo was pounding into her sopping wet pussy. Susan pulled her hair, yanking her head back and her big tits swung forward. Donna came and came like never before, screaming out for more.

She collapsed on the floor, breathing hard. Suddenly, the air was filled with applause. She looked up to see that they were really on the stage of a huge auditorium and thousands of people were watching her. They had all seen her fuck. They had all heard her come. And they liked it--they really liked it. She felt so proud of herself.

She wanted to give the audience more of what they wanted. She rolled over on to her back.

"Fuck me more, Mistress!" she demanded of Susan. "Fuck me hard!"

And then Susan was all over her again, and again she was coming.

And the crowd was cheering.

She awoke awash in a sea of soft blondness. She tried to sit up, lost her balance and felt her breasts pull her over onto her side. She brushed the hair out of her face and saw that her tits had grown to at least twice the size they had been this morning and her hair now reached her waist.

"Pretty..." she breathed in hushed reverence.

She made a more successful attempt at sitting, then parted her hair with her hands and pulled the heavy locks back over her shoulders to keep them out of her face. The soft hair being drawn across her huge jugs felt heavenly and she cooed with pleasure, then started to rub them. They were real, they were firm, they were beautiful, and they were hers. She cautiously made it to her feet, the unaccustomed momentum of her tits pulling her this way and that, wobbling and knocking into each other. Donna giggled.

She carefully made her way to her mirror and gurgled with delight at the grinning naked woman with irrationally large titties that looked back at her.

"I'm so pretty!" she said, amazed, squeezing her breasts, lifting them and dropping them, letting them bounce and jiggle while she giggled.

"I'm so sexy!" she cried with growing excitement. She couldn't wait to show off her new rack. She knew that any one who saw her would want to fuck her. And she so wanted to fuck!

"I'm so slutty!" she exclaimed with sudden delighted realization.

"A slut," she thought, remembering her dream. "That's what I am. That's what I want to be. I love to fuck and why should I be ashamed of that? If that's what I like, then that's what I should do!"

She saw that it was just past five. She knew what she needed and just what she had to do. None of her clothes would fit her now and they weren't sexy enough anyway. She needed to buy new clothes. Then she needed to go show off her new body and find someone to screw. Hell, she needed to find a lot of people to screw.

She giggled, then wiggled into her french-cut panties and her tightest pair of jeans. Then she grabbed an over-sized white T-shirt which she sometimes used as sleepwear and stretched it over her massive rack. Taking a pair of scissors, she cut the bottom of the shirt away so that it showed off her tummy. She pulled a long blonde strand and sucked on it as she admired herself in the mirror once more, then grabbed her purse and a pair of heels and headed out to find some action.

As she neared the kitchen, she could hear Susan on the phone sounding tired, angry, and frustrated. Donna thought to herself that what Susan really needed was a good fuck but she didn't think the woman would come with her. She'd probably try to stop her from showing off her knockers. She was such a prude. Donna decided to sneak past, shoes in hand. Then she was out the door, in her car, and on her way to party. She felt great!

Donna zipped through the streets of Boston feeling more alive than she ever had. She knew that none of the places that she usually shopped would have any of the things she knew she needed. They wouldn't even have anything that would fit her new body. But she knew where she could go. Out by the warehouse district near the harbor was a boutique where all the prostitutes and strippers shopped. Donna wanted to look as sexy as they did.

She was quite familiar with this area of town, since when her husband was mayor she had led a campaign to have the business licenses of all the strip clubs and smut shops there revoked. She couldn't for the life of her remember why. She realized now that she hadn't fucked nearly often enough in her lifetime and this was probably the best part of town to catch up.

She squealed with delight when she got to 'Aphroditie's Nightie' and saw all the wonderful sexy clothes. The sales girls were really impressed with her new rack--why couldn't Susan take that attitude? They helped her get her new measurements and Donna giggled and jumped up and down when they told her she would wear an E cup.

She tried on a dozen of sexy outfits that really showed off her titties and decided to buy most of them. The hardest decision was what to wear tonight. But then she found a tiny dress that was perfect. It was sleeveless, stretchy, shiny, and purple with a big heart-shaped cut-out to show off her cleavage. It fit her like it had been painted on and the hem clung to the top of her thighs, barely concealing her G-string-clad pussy. She added a matching pair of 5 inch heals and some big, dangly earrings. The sales girls told her that in that outfit she could give a hard on to any man alive. Donna was delighted. That was exactly what she wanted.

And so, weighted down with all her new 'fuck me' clothes, she headed out into the streets of Boston, bound and determined to get herself thoroughly screwed. The combination of the many bags, the new center of balance caused by her huge tits, and the unaccustomed high heels made walking very complicated, taking all her concentration as she wiggled and jiggled. Thus, she almost lost her balance when someone behind her on the sidewalk spoke to her.

"Hello Mrs. Travers! Can I help you with those?"

She turned, wobbled, then was steadied by a large masculine hand on her shoulder. She smiled in recognition when she saw the bushy moustache.

"Hey, I know you! You're the one with the big cock... <giggle>... I mean microphone."

"Yes, but I don't think I've introduced myself," said the reporter, taking several bags from her. "I'm Tom--Tom Tragent."

"Well, pleased to meet you, Tom!" she said with a quick little curtsy that set her rack to jiggling again.

"I must say, Mrs. Travers, you have quite an impressive set of jugs," complimented Tom. "I'm glad to see you're showing them off more. That dress looks deliciously slutty on you."

The candidate tittered and beamed with pride.

"Oh please, Tom," she said "Call me Donna. Let's be friends."

"Why thank you, Donna," he replied, "You know, I've been following your career for a while now, and I have some ideas about how to help your campaign. There's a delightful little bar over there. Would you like to discuss it over drinks?"

He really liked her. She just knew it. And he must have a big hard cock just like his microphone. Donna didn't want another Dr. Wang fiasco, but she was sure that Tom would be more willing. Here was a man that would treat her like the slut that she was.

"Why Tom, that's so sweet of you!" exclaimed Donna. "But wouldn't you rather go some place a little more private where we could like, get to know each other, and, well, fuck?"

The reporter chuckled.

"My, my... A little anxious, aren't you Donna?" he observed. "But all right, we'll do it in reverse order. But afterwards I insist on buying you a drink. A gentleman should always be willing to get a lady drunk if he's going to plow her."

Donna giggled, giddy with the realization that she was finally going to get some action.

"But I'm not a lady," she declared. "I'm a slut!"

"Well then, my dear slut, let's get it on! My van is right over there."

They put her new clothing in the trunk of her car and headed over to the big black van with the satellite dish on top.

The back of the van was windowless and lit only by the dusky light coming from the front dozens of LEDs on the very complicated-looking electronic equipment that lined the sides. It was going to be a tight pinch--none of the acrobatics she had had this morning with Jeff--but at least she was going to get laid.

"So what's all this do?" she asked. She didn't rightly care, but she knew how men liked to show off their stuff. She figured she had better stroke his ego a bit--she didn't want another Dr. Wang incident.

"Oh, just some equipment that I built to maximize the power and efficiency of my EM transmissions," he said proudly. "I really am a genius, if I do say so myself! Uh... for a humble reporter, that is."

"Wow!" said Donna, trying to look impressed. "That's really impressive!"